


Sander Sides Hunger Games au

by LordCheesecake



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Blood and Gore, Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, Minor Character Death, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, probably angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-06-12 18:04:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15345480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordCheesecake/pseuds/LordCheesecake
Summary: After Roman Prince and Valerie Torres, the Star-crossed lovers won the 74th Hunger Games, they thought that their lives would go back to normal. But once the Quarter Quell is announced, they're thrown back into the arena, with new allies, romances, and a rebellion stirring.IDK how to summarize things





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So this is my first fic ever and I wanted to try my hand at a sander sides au. It might get better, might now, who knows.
> 
> Also, if you have a better title for this, I'm open to suggestions.
> 
> My tumblrs @lord-cheesecake if you want to check it out.

Roman could remember everything from the reaping 4 years ago. The smell of fear almost tangible in the air and the faint sound of fervent praying still echoed through his ears.

 

The feeling of his palms, clammy and sticky with sweat as he desperately clung to his older brother's hand. And the feeling of that strong hand slipping away…

 

Roman longed to lock those memories away, far from his conscious where he would never have to relive the moment when his brother was sent to his death; but they never left.

 

Now at 18, this was the last reaping that Roman would ever have to endure; his last year of worrying himself sick at the thought of being chosen. Sucking in a breath, he squeezed his eyes shut and began fiddling nervously with the hem of his stiff white shirt.

 

“And the male tribute for district 12 is… Roman Prince.” Roman’s blood went cold as all traces of colour drained from his already pale face.

 

“No… no this is not happening,” someone pushing him towards the Justice Building, effectively pulling him out of his stupor and he stumbled towards the marble steps. The capitol escort, a petite woman with neon yellow hair, pulled him along by the shoulder until he stood beside the female tribute

 

Valerie Torres, the baker’s daughter. They’d only spoken once or twice during school and Roman knew little about her. Her hands were fisted tightly in her light green dress, looking as sick as Roman felt.

 

“Let’s have a round of applause for our tributes from district 12!” the woman gave a short round of hollow applause before the peacekeepers led them within the grand halls of the Justice Building.

***

The few minutes Roman had to say his goodbyes were spent in solemn silence; his mother, struggling to keep sobs at bay as she sent off another child to slaughter, and his brothers, not knowing what to say to their youngest sibling.

 

Roman’s mother pressed something small into his trembling hands, her own shaking just as much as his. The object was a tiny pin, scuffed and tarnished; but Roman could still make out the once intricate details.

 

“This was your fathers a-and he’d want you to have it.” her voice faltered slightly at the end as she reached forwards to cup Roman’s cheek. All he could do was squeeze her hand gently and swallow back the sobs that threatened to pour from his lips.

 

Roman had so much to say to everyone; he needed to apologize to his family for being so painfully quiet and he needed to find someone to take his precious now and keep it safe and loved. He needed to tell everyone that he loved them.

 

Yet Roman never had the chance and was instead swept away by a group of peacekeepers as they led him and Valerie towards the train station. Roman could only watch as his life, his home and his family disappear beyond the horizon as he headed towards the Capitol.


	2. Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second part of this...thing.
> 
> If you want to checkout my tumblr, I'm @lord-cheesecake

He shouldn’t be here, Roman knew that; but he needed to distract himself, just for a little while longer. The train was coming in less than 12 hours and he was slowly unravelling into a nervous mess. With a bow in his hands and a wild turkey in his sights, this was the most relaxed that Roman had felt in weeks.

Hidden and unmoving behind the trees, he kept his eyes trained on the lone fowl, pecking at the hardened ground for the last scraps of food. He carefully moved his freezing hands, pulling the taut bowstring to his cheek, his lips just grazing the string. Sucking in a shaky breath, he released the string and watched as the bird crumbled to the ground.

Grabbing the bird by its legs, he removed the arrow, shook off the snow dusting its feathers and stuffed it into his hunting bag. He stowed his bow and arrow sheath in the hollow of a rotting tree, puffing warm air over his fingers in a weak effort to regain the feeling. Shaking off the snow building in his hair, he grabbed his bag, tied it shut and slung it over his shoulder. Straightening his spine, he began the long trek back to district 12.

***

The thin layer of snow on the stone path crunched under his feet as he walked towards the line of expensive houses. As Roman approached the house, he couldn’t help the overwhelming feeling that something was wrong.

His mother greeted him at the door like she always did, but the worry that lined her weathered features was jarring. She whisked away his hunting bag and motioned towards one of the many studies.

“Someone’s waiting for you,” Roman frowned at her quiet voice but followed her directions. Shrugging off his heavy jacket, he headed along the long hallway towards the study and was stunned by what he saw.

Valerie stood in the middle of the room with several peacekeepers guarding the entrance. And there, sitting on the dark maple wood desk, was a small device creating a hologram of the president of Panam. Roman looked to Valerie for some kind of answer, but she looked just as confused and concerned as he did. He turned to face the man behind the hologram.

“President Dolon,” Roman began in the most upbeat voice he could muster.

“Roman Prince. A pleasure to see you again,” he gestured towards the peacekeepers. “You can leave now," the peacekeepers filed out of the room, closing the doors behind them. “Now then,” the president shifted in his dark velvet seat. “, how have you 2 love birds been doing?” the smile he gave them looked sincere enough, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

“We’ve been doing fine, thank you,” Valerie said, moving towards Roman and clasping their hands together. The president nodded, though he looked like he didn’t believe a word she said. “We’re both looking forward to seeing you in the Capitol at the end of the tour, right?” she looked up at Roman, a desperate plea for help.

“Yes. I can’t wait to see everyone again,” he agreed, bringing Valerie closer to his chest. The president hummed softly, lifting his gloved hands so they rested under his chin.

“And how is your friend, what’s his name, Colton was it?” Roman felt Valerie's hand stiffen around his, but her face remained emotionless. Colton was Valerie’s partner before the whole games mess started and before they decided that they would play the forbidden romance to increase their chances of winning. It was cruel to rip apart their love, but they’d both agreed that it was a small price to pay for saving their lives.

“He’s doing alright,”

“Really,” the hologram shifted as the images changed “ because it looks like you two are doing more than just alright,” Dolon hissed. The hologram showed security footage of Valerie and Colton, too immersed in each other to realize they were being recorded. Valerie flinched away and Roman squeezed her hand in silent reassurance. “I think we should all agree to not tell each other lies,” he seemed to take their silence as agreement. “Well then? I’d like the truth,” Roman shifted his gaze to meet the president’s snake-like face.

“Why are you here?” the other man sighed, shaking his head in a demeaning manner.

“I've already answered that Mr Prince,” Valerie let out a shaky breath “, I want you to show me that your romance is sincere,”

“Why us.”

“Because, Ms Torres, you and Mr Prince presented me with a rather large problem. The minute you decided to oppose the games, you showed the little people how delicate this system is,”

“And how are the faults in your system our problem?”

“Because, Mr Prince, by showing them the fragility of the system, they’ve decided that they have the chance to rise above their way of living,” the sneer in his voice and the pure disdain in his eyes made Roman’s blood boil with newfound anger. “There have been riots. Uprisings all over the districts after what you two did,”

“We never meant go against the Capitol. We just wanted to survive,”Valerie growled, her voice low and dangerous.

“Maybe you didn’t mean to, but your actions have caused a dangerous domino effect,”

“Well, how are we supposed to stop people from rioting!”

“It’s as I said. Convince me that you truly love each other. Show me that what happened in the games wasn't an act of defiance, but an act of two people, too in love to understand the repercussions,”

Valerie narrowed her eyes. “And if we don’t?”

The president smiled, except it looked more like a smirk to Roman. “Then I fear that something awful just might happen in district 12. Keep those you love close to you, will you?”

***

Once the peacekeepers left, Roman and Valerie barricaded themselves in the study, desperately thinking of a plan that might save their loved ones.

Valerie apologized profusely despite the fact that Roman had long since forgiven her. He had no clue how hard it must be to let go of someone who you loved so intimately.

“So, what do we do?” the uncharacteristic weakness in Valerie’s voice made Roman’s heart clench with another wave of despair

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? We play the part, just like Dolon said,”

“But how do we convince him? I mean, we've been playing the part as best as we can, but...” Roman was quiet for a second before an idea came to him. It was a thought that Roman had only entertained for once or twice after they came back from the games, but with the threat from President Dolon...

“Hey, Val? Do you want to get married?”

***

The train station was absolutely frigid when Roman arrived. Pulling his scarf tighter around his face to keep himself warm, he squinted through the storm to find Valerie. After they ironed out their marriage proposal plan, she left to find Colton, probably to apologize and share their last few moments together.

Stamping his feet to keep the feeling in his toes, Roman watched as the train noiselessly pulled into the station. Several camera crews exited along with their Capitol escort, Chrysós, all chattering animatedly about this year's Victor's tour. Roman couldn’t help the wide smile that painted his lips as he saw a young man in a baby blue jacket step off and onto the platform.

“AH! Roman! It’s been so long!” Patton Hart, his designer, encircled his arms around Roman’s shoulders and Roman, in turn, wrapped his arms around the shorter man’s waist.

“Hey Patton,” the other man pulled away from Roman and looked around the platform.

“Where’s Val?”

“She’ll be here soon enough,” Patton, though confused, just nodded and began filling Roman in on different bits of news from the Capitol. He was in the middle of telling Roman about people in the capitol trying to imitate his district token when Valerie skidded along the slippery path towards them.

“Val!” Patton moved towards the girl and pulled her into a warm hug and began fussing over newly grown in eyebrows, chiding her gently before giving her a teasing grin. Roman smiled at her, stubbornly ignoring her messy hair and dilated pupils.

Wrapping an arm around his ‘lover’, he began leading them towards their house, doing his best to act like his normal, boisterous self. Patton spoke quickly as they walked, getting them up to speed on some of his outfit designs, giving several instructions to the makeup crew behind them. He explained how he had everything planned out for them, periodically wiping his glasses to get rid of the fog.

When the path forked along Victor’s village, Roman gave Valerie a warm kiss to send her off, brushing the snow out of her hair in a loving way. His heart ached when she couldn’t meet his eyes. Roman could hear Patton squealing softly at their exchange before pushing Roman towards his house to get him ready. Afterall, the Victor’s tour was just beginning.


	3. Chapter 2

The next few days were spent on the road, visiting the districts and meeting the families of the children he slaughtered. Roman felt hollow and empty when reciting his speech, wanting to scream so badly. He wanted to yell out apologies to those now childless parents and beg on his hands and knees for their forgiveness, but Valerie helped him keep himself together. She was his rock, his anchor that kept him sane, but he knew that she wasn’t invincible. Some nights, when she was awoken by vivid, blood-soaked nightmares, Valerie would climb into Roman’s compartment, content with another warm body to keep her grounded.

 

Currently, they were in 7, a district surrounded by vast woodlands similar to the ones in 12. He’d been socializing for hours with the locals and just felt emotionally drained. Speaking to those who had close ties to the tributes was just as hard as speaking with the families, so for now, he was happy to stay by Valerie’s side and make small talk with Patton.

 

He watched his mentor, a drunken mess of a man who lost his grip on reality years ago, speak to a younger man who looked incredibly uncomfortable with the situation. Roman only vaguely recognized the younger as the orphan victor from the 70th games, Virgil Raine. One of the youngest tributes to ever win and was his brother’s ally before he was killed. He looked older than when Roman last saw him, though it had been 4 years since he last saw him at such close quarters.

 

The last time they even interacted was during Virgil’s Victor’s tour. It had been Virgil’s final stop before heading to the Capitol and listening to his speech, especially his tribute to Remy, made Roman felt just as exhausted as Virgil did. 

 

Patton headed over to intervene once his mentor’s quiet slurred mumbles grew into a drunken rage; spitting and screaming profanities at the peacekeepers as they led him back to the train. Roman could see Patton quietly talking to the young man before bringing him towards them.

 

“Hey, guys! This is Virgil, he’s a victor from the district,” turning to Virgil, he added, “These are Roman Prince and Valerie Torres.” Roman nodded hello and Valerie gave him a short wave. Up close, Roman could see that his eyes were an unnatural shade of dark purple, no doubt the Capitol’s work. They were uncomfortably similar to the shade of nightlock berries...

 

“Congratulations on your victory. It’s nice to meet you two,” Virgil’s voice was low and smooth, something about it making Roman’s heart flutter nervously.

 

“The pleasure’s all ours,” Patton smiled brightly beside Virgil.

 

“You know, he helped sponsor the burn medicine and bread you got in the arena!”

 

“Really?” Valerie quirked a brow.

 

“Um, yeah. It wasn’t much, really,” 

 

“Nonsense, you really helped us. If it wasn’t for you, we could be dead,” Virgil blushed softly at Roman’s sentiment and exchanged quick goodbyes before Virgil was pulled away by a middle-aged woman, probably heading back to Victor’s Village. Part of him wished to go after him and talk more, but it was late and they would be going back to the train soon. 

 

“He was interesting, wasn’t he?” Roman hummed in agreement, grabbing Valerie’s hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “I mean, at least we had each other and our families. It must have been awful, dealing with this alone,” Valerie sighed, wrapping an arm around Roman for comfort.

 

He closed his eyes, allowing the scent of Valerie's perfume settle his racing heart. “It must have been so hard.”

 

***

 

The rattling of the train dragged Roman out of the first good night sleep in days. He groaned softly, bringing Valerie closer to him in a weak attempt to fall back asleep, but with the sun shining in his eyes, it was nearly impossible. 

 

Forcing himself out of bed, he headed to the dining room for breakfast.

 

“Morning, kiddo! You sleep well?” 

 

Roman let out a tired sigh as he slumped in his seat. “It was alright, thanks,” He grabbed a plate and began loading it with different rolls and sausages. “What’s the plan for today?” Patton brightened at Roman’s words.

 

“Well,” he grabbed his sketchbook from beside him “, I’ve got a new suit for you and a dress I know that Val will love,” he began explaining different parts of their outfits while Roman blinked sleep from his eyes. Valerie eventually joined them, followed by their mentor and Chrysos, both looking too hungover to function.

 

They were travelling to 3 today, a rather small district that Patton said they would love, but despite his reassuring words, Roman was still dreading the trip. The morning passed in a blur of hair stylists and red fabric as the crew prepared him and Valerie for the afternoon's proceedings. Patton managed to lift their spirits a smidge, but in the end, Roman still felt tired and troubled.

 

***

 

Roman’s tongue felt like sandpaper as he and Valerie recited their speech, word for word with the most enthusiasm they could muster. The crowd's cheers felt empty and fake like their voices, too happy and upbeat to be real. The celebratory banquet that followed was nice, though, listening to Chrysos complain about the food quality made Roman’s head hurt.

 

“Hello Roman Prince, Valerie Torres,” the voice that came from behind them startled Roman out of his thoughts. Turning around, he saw a tall, angular man peering down at them with a stern looking gaze. “I’m Logan Flux, the Victor from the 67th games,” he looked as if he wanted to say more, but was bowled over by a flash of sky blue.

 

“LOGAN!” Patton was clinging to the other man’s side, both of their glasses askew from the force of the impact.

 

“Hello, Patton. It’s wonderful to see you again,” Logan stood up and brushed imaginary dust off his suit while Patton clung lovingly to his arm. He adjusted his glasses, trying to look dignified but failing miserably. “I was just congratulating these two on their victory,” turning to Roman, “Your skills in improvising traps were magnificent, the best I've seen in a long time. And I must say, your archery skills are phenomenal. Where exactly did you learn to shoot that well?” A fresh wave of guilt washed over Roman as he remembered the girl that he murdered. This man knew that girl; trained her and worked with her for weeks leading up to the games and watched her die. Valerie, sensing his distress, leaned against him and intertwined her hand with his.

 

“My father taught me,” he mumbled, unable to look the older man in the eye. Logan gave him a curt nod before looking to Valerie.

 

“And your skills are nothing to look down upon either, Ms Torres. Again, many congratulations on your victory,”  he gave them both a small smile before being pulled away at the arm by Patton. Roman could vaguely hear Logan groaning about something the shorter man said, probably one of his puns or jokes.

 

“I think he likes you more than me,” Roman frowned as Valerie giggled softly, grabbing his other hand and smoothing her thumb over his fingers. “I don’t blame him, though. Your much more interesting, my Prince,” Roman rolled his eyes at the nickname.

 

“Whatever you say, my queen,” he shot back, moving their bodies in a rhythmic swaying motion, knowing that there were cameras watching. Listening for their every move and reporting their every slip up to President Dolon.

 

By the end of the night, Valerie and Roman both said their goodbyes, boarding the train to district 2 and dragging an unhappy Patton along with them.

 

“I just wanted to stay for a little bit longer,” he whined, picking at the stitching of the leather chair with a pout on his face. “And Logan was just starting to laugh too…” the two victors left Patton to sulk in his room, Valerie giving him a sympathetic pat on the back and looking back at Roman with a concerned face when he didn’t respond.

 

“He’ll be alright, Val,” he instantly regretted his words when Valerie gave him a steely gaze before sauntering off behind the door. He sighed, running a hand through his dark caramel hair and slowly moving back to his room. Removing his suit and scrubbing off the makeup, he flopped onto the silken coves and fell into the warm embrace of sleep.

 

***

 

Patton gradually returned back to his normal self, though Roman caught him looking wistfully out the window of the train on more than a few occasions. While the designer never gave them exact details about his relationship with the tall victor from 3, Roman and Valerie could understand, Valerie most of all. Having been forever separated from her own love, she sympathized greatly for him.

 

Following what seemed like an eternity, after travelling all the way back to 12 just last night, they made it to the Capitol. The giant city looked just as intimidating and artificial as the first time Roman was here. 

 

He couldn’t help the nervous lurch in his stomach as he went over the marriage plan in his head, even though there was nothing to be anxious about.

 

_ “It’s simple Roman. Just keep your cool, do you talent and propose. Easy as that,” _ he palmed the velvet box in his pocket carefully. Patton had given it to him once Roman told him his plan to propose to his ‘queen’. It was a small, silver thing with a rose shaped ruby adorned with small, shiny gemstones, no doubt a product from 1. It was amazing how fast Patton worked to get the ring for Roman, especially since he only told the designer a few days prior; definitely a last-minute endeavour.

 

Stepping onto the train platform, Roman took Valerie’s hand, put on his most winning smile and swallowed back his worries, waving happily towards the cameras documenting their every move. They were ushered towards the city circle to get ready, other makeup artists and designers flocking Patton’s side to catch a glimpse of his plans for the ‘Star-Crossed Lovers’.

 

The next few hours were an absolute mess of fabric, dread and people poking and prodding at his body, questioning and scrutinizing everything that Patton was doing before he forced them out.

 

“Sorry about that, kiddo. They were just...sew excited,” he giggled at his own joke as he re-sewed a piece of velvet that had been torn off during the whirlwind.

 

“Yeah. I guess so,” Roman laughed, pulling at the cuffs of the suit and adjusting the collar slightly. “Do I look good?”

 

“I always think you look good, champ!” Patton smiled, fastening his district token to his chest. “You got your ring?” Patting at his breast pocket, Roman gave Patton a shaky nod. “Don’t worry about it, kiddo. You’ll do fine,” he gave Roman an encouraging thumbs up before rushing out to help Valerie.

 

“Don’t worry, Roman! You’re a Prince, remember? And Prince’s don’t get nervous!” he said, desperately clinging to Remy's words in an attempt to soothe his nerves. Going over his talent, he sang part of the song, got down on one knee and faked the proposal, his movements fluid and calculated from days of practice.

 

When Valerie and Patton finally exited their prep room, Roman could say that he was truly blown away. Her dark chocolate hair had been brushed and pulled into an intricate bun, golden sparkles dusting her cheeks and eyes. The pale rose colour of her dress complimenting her skin tone nicely and matching his own darker red suit. All in all, she was absolutely stunning.

 

“Ready to go, my Queen?”

 

“As I’ll ever be, my Prince,”

 

All in all, their performance went well. They went out to greet the people of the Capitol, both looking as if they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Then, they performed their talent and in the middle of the duet they were singing, Roman dropped the question.

 

Getting down on one knee, “Valerie Torres. My star. My Queen. Would you do me the honour of marrying me?” the words felt stiff and robotic to Roman, but the Capitol people were eating up their performance, screaming at Valerie to say yes. He watched as Valerie teared up convincingly.

 

“Oh my god...Roman. Of course, I will, my Prince,” Roman stood quickly and spun her in his arms, surrounding his body around hers. The roaring cheers from the Capitol were deafening, drowning out all other noises and making it difficult to hear anything. “You think that was convincing enough?” asked Valerie, her lips ghosting over his ear.

 

“I think so,” he pressed his lips against hers, feigning passion and intimate love. Several minutes passed before the cheers to died down to an excited hum, people chattering about the ‘Star-Crossed Lovers’ and their future wedding. Even when President Dolon stepped out and onto the balcony with the two victors, the crowd never ceased. He raised a hand to silence them.

 

Turning to face the lovers, “How would you like to have your wedding right here, in the Capitol?” Valerie faked joyous surprise at his offer, smiling at Roman before nodding.

 

“I think we’d have to make sure our parents are ok with that first, President Dolon,” she was giggling and looked happy in Roman's arms, but he could tell that the laughter didn’t reach her eyes, making her look miserable and hollow.

 

“I’m sure we could make a few accommodations for you two,” he flashed them a sharp grin.

 

“We would be honoured, President Dolon,” the man smiled that evil, snake-like grin before turning to address the Capitol. He said a few departing words before leading both of them towards the banquet hall, filled with heaps of food and drink.

 

Together, Romand and Valerie danced the night away, tasting every dish on those long tables as they went in an effort to drown out their sorrows in Capitol goods. For a while, Valerie looked as if she would cry but brushed it off as her being excited for the wedding, which Roman knew was a lie.

 

Several people took turns dancing with both of them, congratulating them on their engagement and complementing the ring.

 

"Though, if you truly loved her, you would have gotten her a bigger one, sweetheart," chirped a woman as she inspected the ring.

 

"I think it's lovely," said Valerie, staring fondly at the ring and ignoring the woman as she huffed snootily and waltzed away. Entwining their arms, Roman scanned the crowd, for meeting President Dolon's poisonous glare. The man smiled sarcastically, lifting his glass mockingly and nodding slightly. 

 

"Val," he whispered, subtly motioning towards the President. Turning, she noticed his toast.

 

"You think we convinced him?"

 

"Maybe. Just maybe."

 

***

 

“Oh, honey! I’m home!” The door swung open, revealing Roman brandishing his hunting bag with a flourish. It had been a month after their Victory tour and they had begun settling into their new, engaged lifestyle. Valerie, who was sitting on the couch, didn’t move at Roman’s words, too invested with what was happening on the screen in front of her. Setting down his things and taking his bag to the kitchen and setting down two rabbits for his mother to later skin and stew. “What’re you watching, love?”

 

Valerie, again, didn’t move. “Terra gave me this tape, told me to watch it,” she mumbled. Terra was the mayor’s daughter and had prime access to Capitol news that was generally unseen by the public. On the screen, there was security footage of district 8, but unlike what they saw when they had been there, the textile district was up in flames. Warehouses and storage units ablaze while peacekeepers struggled to put out the fire and keep the citizens at bay, watchtowers uprooted from their foundations and fences crashing at their feet.

 

Roman’s eyes remained glued to the holographic screen, unable to tear his eyes away from the horrific view. So this was what President Dolon meant by an uprising.

 

“I thought everything was fine now,” he gasped, flinching when he heard the gunfire begin, ingraining in his skull and bringing painful memories to light. Valerie quickly switched off the screen and removed the tape, unwilling to watch the slaughter taking place.

 

A single tear rolled down her cheek. “What did we do wrong?” she whispered, wiping at her eyes with the sleeves of her sweater.

 

“I don’t know.” he leaned down to offer her some kind of comfort, but the opening and closing of the front door jumped them out of their thoughts. Valerie quickly wiped away her tears, fixing a stoic expression on her face while Roman turned to see who it was.

 

“Patrick,” Roman gave a sigh of relief as he saw his brother remove his boots and pad towards them.

 

“Turn on the holo,” he said, flopping onto another couch, “they’re announcing the Quarter Quell.” Roman frowned but squeezed Valerie’s shoulder. 

 

When the holo blinked back to life, they were shown the Capitol seal, the anthem ringing alongside it. Roman watched as a young boy stepped into the pedestal beside President Dolon, carrying a small, white box in his hands. The boy opened the box with a prideful smile on his lips, revealing stacks of small cards, each with a different set of rules for the Quarter Quell. Dolon leaned down slightly, his leather-covered fingers skimming over the cards in an almost thoughtful manner before grabbing one.

 

Straightening, he looked down at the card and leaned in close to the microphone, and Roman could almost hear the glee in his voice as he read the white square.

 

“For the third Quarter Quell on the 75th anniversary of the games, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...that's that. It's not really a cliff hanger, but it kinda sounds dramatic. Comments and Kudos are appreciated and you can check out my Tumblr at lord-cheesecake if you want!


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not super happy about this chapter, despite several rewrites and edits, but I hope you enjoy!

The next few days were filled with sinking dread, Roman’s whole reality shattering to pieces before his very eyes. He felt like a bystander, watching his life and all the security it promised slip through his fingers like water. Valerie left out as soon as she heard the news, sprinting towards the bakery to find her parents. Being the only female victor in district 12, she was guaranteed to go back into the arena which all but promised death.

 

Roman’s mother sobbed for what seemed like an eternity, tugging out wispy strands of greying hazel hair as she clawed at her head.

 

“No. No, please please don’t do this to me! Don't do this to my baby, please! I can’t lose my baby,” He could still hear her words ringing through his ears. Patrick and Shea, his oldest brother, tried to console her as best as they could, but neither could quiet her wailing cries.

 

Roman and Valerie spent the day after the announcement with their mentor, pouring his vast collection of spirits down the drain and trying their best to sober him up and tell him the news. When he was sober enough to understand, however, he just laughed at them, saying that it would be better if they all died anyway. Roman tried to convince him that he needed to train, but the older man practically threw up on Valerie and stumbled away, cursing at them to get out of his house.

 

“Serves the old bastard right,” Roman scowled, breathing in the fresh air to clearing his nose of the foul stench of alcohol and mildew. They walked back home, hand in hand as they quietly discussed a new training regime to get back in shape. Both of them were still fit, but their combat skills were lacking after months of lazing around the house.

 

Valerie had suggested going for a run in the morning and practising other combat drills during the afternoon.

 

“To avoid everyone staring,” Roman nodded. Though he enjoyed the spotlight, he couldn’t bear the thought of pitiful stares boring into his back.

 

***

 

The next few months were spent training. Despite the Capitol’s strict rules against practice before the games, no one would dare try to stop them. The two victors slowly built up their strength and endurance, running through combat drills and weapon skills. Some days, Roman would forgo working with Valerie, instead opting to practice his shooting in the forest, bringing a few rabbits home in the process. He honed his sword skill to the best of his abilities using heavy branches, though they felt clunky and strange against Roman's palm.

 

He had little clue about what Valerie did on those days. Maybe she made snares from the bushes than lines the paved road, or perhaps she was at the bakery, painting lifelike cakes that would be near invisible on the forest floor.

 

The day of the reaping came quicker than Roman would have liked it to. He still had so much to practice and refine, but it was time. Time for Roman's months of training to pay off; either by keeping him alive in the arena or helping him care for the others' family.

 

Roman, Valerie and their mentor were all roped off into separate sections, off and away from the silent crowd. Roman smoothed the creases off his white shirt, his heart breaking when he saw his family, red-eyed and looking as if they had all aged a thousand years. Valerie's face was blank and emotionless, only her eyes revealing the grief and anguish she felt inside.

 

Chrysos stepped to the microphone, testing to see if it worked before jumping into her yearly speech regarding the games. Roman did his best to tune out her words, instead focusing in his mentor who, inexplicably, smelled of liquor.

 

"Let's start with the girls!"  Chrysos cheerfully proceeded towards the glass with tribute names, her dyed silver hair bouncing with each step. Rifling dramatically around the glass, she picked up the lone slip of paper. "Valerie Torres," dipping her head, Valerie solemnly walked up the steps, taking her place on Chrysos' right side.

 

"And now, for the boys," she stalked over to the left of the stage, dipping her hand into the glass globe and fishing out one of the two papers within. "Roman Prince," he let out the breath he didn't know he was holding, one part of him relieved that Valerie wasn't going without him, the other half screaming at him to run to the forest and disappear forever. "Well, come on, now!" taking in a sharp breath, he slowly headed to stand at Chrysos' left. "Many congratulations to our to tributes, and may the odds be ever in their favour," she quickly led them into the Justice Building where they were taken by peacekeepers and ushered to the train station.

 

"Wait, what about our time with our family," Valerie demanded, struggling to break free of the soldier's grip and rush to the hall to say her final goodbyes.

 

"Change of plans," the man grunted, "you're heading straight to the Capitol,"

 

"What? Why?" the man glared at Roman behind his black visor and didn't answer. They were unceremoniously shoved onto the train, given no time to visit their loved ones. Pressing his face against the window, Roman watched his family run towards the train station, their mouths moving but no sound reaching his ears. His mother was running faster than he'd ever seen before, tripping over her dress and wailing for her son as she fell to the ground.

 

"Mom! Dad!" Valerie was screaming, tears streaming down her face as she pounded on the glass, "I'll come home, I promise, alright! I'll come home...I promise," her voice trailed off into hysterical sobbing as the district disappeared behind the trail of smoke, pushing past Roman as he approached and headed towards her compartment.

 

He sighed, keeping his eyes trained on the window, watching smoke from the coal mines rise into the sky.

 

"Roman," the tribute, a wave of relief rushing through him as he turned and ran into the older man's arms.

 

"Patton," he murmured, allowing the designer to wrap his arms around his torso and offer the younger comfort. Roman squeezed his eyes shut, feeling tears spill over his cheeks and onto Patton's cardigan.

 

"Hey, kiddo," a warm hand smoothed over his back and wiping away Roman's tears, "You're ok, alright? You're alright," After a while, Patton's arms released him, giving him a watery smile. "Come on. The Capitol's broadcasting the other reapings."

 

Roman allowed himself to be pulled along by Patton to another compartment, sinking into one of the plush cushions. The designer sat beside him and switched on the holo.

 

"What about Val?" Patton shook his head at Roman's question.

 

"I'll get her up to speed when she's feeling better,"

 

Over the next few hours, Roman and Patton reviewed every person he would be facing against in the coming games.

 

"Look for allies that might help you," Patton advised, though Roman was sceptical. The more allies you have, the more friends you have to murder. The tributes from districts 1, 2 and 4 seemed dangerous despite their age, practically all of them were careers during their games who won using raw strength and ability.

 

When the reaping for district 3 was shown, Patton was restless, tapping his feet and picking at his nails with nervousness. In the end, a young woman named Dhalia Johnson was chosen and with her was Logan Flux, the man Roman had met during the Victors tour. Patton looked heartbroken, excusing himself politely and fleeing the room.

 

District 5 was nothing special, both victors looking well into their 40's. 6 was slightly more interesting, both victors were high on morphling and one of them took a nose-dive off the stage. By the time that the Capitol was streaming the district 7 reaping, Patton returned, eyes red and puffy.

 

"Are you...alright, Pat?" the designer nodded curtly, sitting beside Roman and focusing on the hologram. A woman that he recognised as the person who led Virgil away on the night of his visit volunteered in the place of an older woman. Her name was Dot Leannis, a mute woman with three young children and a doting husband, all screaming for her to come back.

 

Virgil Raine soon came to stand beside her, chosen out of the rather large pool of living male victors. They kept close to one another, standing in silent solidarity before they were led away.

 

Roman circled both Virgil and Logan's names, half wanting to form an alliance with them, but also wanting to stay as far away from them as possible. He didn't want any more blood on his hands, especially the blood of a friend.

 

The last few districts weren't all that interesting. Most of them were old, their minds too shattered and broken to pose any real threat in Roman's opinion. Then again, though he and Valerie survived the games once, so had all the others. They were no longer facing children who were too afraid to pick up a knife, they were going up against experienced killers who knew what they were doing.

 

***

 

After dinner, Roman informed her on the tributes from other districts and together, they watched the highlights from some of their games. He continued to write as many notes as he could on different tributes. Roman scribbled in information about Virgil's affinity with knives and poisons, even developing new ones for the Capitol's benefit and scrawled int notes about Logan's victory.

 

"It was electrifying," Patton gave a weak laugh at his own joke as they watched the on-screen Logan rig up thick copper wires in the dead of night to an open panel at the edge of the arena, electrocuting the last 7 tributes all at once. "Have you two thought about who you want to work with yet?"

 

Roman frowned, closing his notebook and leaned back into the velvet cushions. "I don't know about having allies, honestly. I don't want to kill people who I've worked with. It's undignified," Roman sighed, putting down his pen and watched as one of the district 1 tributes stabbed her ally in the back, blood spilling on sand, dying it red.

 

Patton looked thoughtful for a moment. "Do you want to see the sunset? I bet it's gorgeous." Valerie frowned, puzzled at Patton's sudden request and change of topic.

 

"Uh, sure Patton. Roman, let's go," Roman stood up from his position on the couch and followed Patton as he led them towards the back of the train "Patton, why don't we just watch from the window?"

 

"I want to get a good view! You know, the last time I tried to see the sunset, I got dusk in my eyes!" he giggled loudly, opening the door to the exterior of the train. He pushed the two lovers onto the balcony and shut the door securely behind them.

 

It was incredibly difficult to hear anything over the roaring wind and the rhythmic rattle of the track beneath them. Looking to the west, he noticed that the sun was slipping beneath the treeline, disappearing in a fiery ball of golden hue. Roman turned to Patton who looked troubled and disturbed.

 

"Patton. Why are we _really_ here," he yelled, his voice just barely audible over the noise.

 

Motioning to them to move closer, "I needed to tell you something important. Something that can't be overheard by anyone else. And you have to promise to me that neither of you will say anything about what I'm about to tell you," Roman's heart began beating faster at Patton's serious tone.

 

"Um," Valerie gave Roman an uncertain look. "Sure. We promise,"

 

Sucking in a nervous breath, "Don't be afraid of having allies," Roman gave Patton a bored look.

 

"That's what you needed to tell us? Really?" Patton nodded fervently.

 

"Allies will help you!" he urged, "Having people you can trust in that arena will boost your chances of survival!"

 

"Why, though," Valerie asked, "it's like Roman said: we don't want to kill friends. It would be cruel to make allies only to have to kill them in the end,"

 

Patton gave a small frustrated noise. "You just," he sighed, twirling his hair nervously, "just, trust me on this. You won't have to kill any allies, I promise," the man practically looked ready to get on his hands and knees to beg. Roman turned to Valerie, shaking his head.

 

"Listen, Patton-"

 

"No. I'm serious, guys. Make allies, it'll help you a lot. Please," Roman gave Patton an uncomfortable look. He usually took the shorter man's advice, but this...

 

"Patton, thank you for the advice, honestly; however I don't think we'll be taking it," Patton opened his mouth to protest, but the words died on his lips.

 

Valerie turned to open the door, allowing everybody to file off of the cramped platform. "That was beautiful," she said, loud enough to be picked up by any cameras and prompt the two men to follow her lead and avoid suspicion.

 

"Not as beautiful as you, my Queen," he chimed, pulling Valerie into a chaste kiss before heading back to the holo to pick up his notebook. "We'll see you at breakfast, Patton," the other man nodded slowly, his blue eyes glassy as his mind whirred with a million different thoughts.

 

That night, as Roman laid on the thin down duvet, he couldn't help but wonder if what Patton told them was true. What if they didn't have to kill any allies? That would make everything much better, but how could Patton be so sure. He might've gotten information from the Capitol, but who knew if it was true or not, but Roman would be lying if he said that he didn't like the idea of allies. The thoughts of possible tributes he could form a group with swam through Roman's mind and by morning, he didn't know what to think anymore.

 

***

 

The minute they arrived in the Capitol, Roman and Valerie were swept away by different stylists, readying them for the tribute parade which was scheduled to take place later that evening. Roman was scrubbed clean of any dirt lingering on his body, trying not to feel self-conscious when one of the stylists stared at his torso too long. Patton walked into the room as one of the stylists was finishing Roman's makeup.

 

"Hey, kiddo! I got your new costume ready!" he closed the door behind him, shooing the others out of the room. He pulled out a flaming red vest and black pants, definitely an odd choice of apparel. "I know it's rather dull compared to last year, but I hope you like it,"

 

"It looks great, Patton," the other man smiled, folding the clothes on an open table before coming over to check his makeup, humming in approval as he examined the makeup crew's work.

 

"Looking good, champ! Now, put on the costume. You're going to sear yourself into the minds of everyone watching!" he gave Roman an impish grin before bustling out to work with Valerie. Roman never knew how the designer managed to juggle working with both Roman and Valerie, but he was a man of many talents.

 

Roman hummed softly to himself as he pulled on the fitted vest and squeezed his way into the black pants. Turning to admire himself in the mirror, he could instantly tell why Patton decided to go with the outfit he chose. The design accentuating the hardened muscled on his arms and the width of his shoulders from months of hard training, as well as hugging the muscles of his thighs and calves.

 

 _"Man, was my butt always that big?"_ he mused, shifting so he could see his backside.

 

"Roman?" Valerie's voice from the other side of the mahogany door startled Roman from his thoughts. "You ready?"

 

“Yes, love. Just give me a minute," he quickly gave one last check before exiting the door, linking arms with Valerie as they strolled towards the base of the City Centre. There, they would wait for the last few tributes to arrive before starting the Chariot Parade.

 

Leaning against a wall, he watched Valerie smooth a hand over a horses neck, giggling when the horse nickered softly, pressing its muzzle to Valerie's face. To the left of the room, Roman spotted the tributes 7 huddled together in the corner, wearing matching flannel shirts and pants. Virgil was speaking quietly to Dot who would nod every one in a while, her weathered hands stroking through the younger's hair in slow, calming movements.

 

Roman could also see Patton speaking to two other individuals, one short with wild dyed hair and the other tall wearing and orange acrylic beanie. The designer must have caught Roman staring and beckoned for him to join them.

 

"Roman, this is Talyn, Virgil's stylist," he gestured to the shorter person who waved good-naturedly ", and this is Joan, Logan's designer,"

 

"It's nice to meet you, Mr Prince," said Joan, giving Roman a firm handshake. "Talyn and I have been very excited to meet you," The shorter nodded.

 

"It really is a pleasure to meet you," their voice was as kind as their smile. "Do you mind if I take a look at your token? It's all the Capitol can talk about these days!"

 

"Um, sure," he carefully unclipped the pin from his vest and placed it into Talyn's palm. He watched as both Joan and Talyn observed the pin, brushing their thumbs over the worn surface and murmuring softly to one another.

 

"What's it made of?"

 

"I'm not really sure, though I believe it's metallic," both Joan and Talyn nodded, continuing to whisper between each other about things Roman's could barely understand.

 

Patton smiled and placed a warm hand on his shoulder. "You can go speak to the other tributes if you want. I'll get you your pin back before the parade starts,"

 

Roman gave the designers a short farewell and made his way towards a small group of tributes. Putting on his most charismatic smile, he struck up a conversation with the man and woman from 11, making the best impression he could on the intimidating duo. A robotic female voice coming from the speakers brought them out of their conversation, signalling to the tributes that it was time for the parade to start.

 

"Roman!" Patton came rushing towards him, re-clipping the pin onto his vest with steady fingers and fixing his hair quickly. "Go out there and show them what you got!" he gave Roman a quick thumbs up before he rushed to his chariot with Valerie.

 

"Where were you?"

 

"Making friends with the competition," he said grimly, taking Valerie's hand in his. "Smile, my dearest. We're on camera."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I made more of this for some reason. I just realized how OOC everyone is so sorry about that. Comments and Kudos are appreciated and you check out my tumblr if you want @lordcheesecake.


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this is so late. I kinda didn't want to write...
> 
> It's extra long though, so hopefully, you'll enjoy!

Hoping off the chariot, Roman let out a low groan. The parade was more emotionally draining than he remembered, seeing the cheering faces of the Capitol people, who were all excited to see their favourite tributes kill each other wasn't a welcome sight. Tiredly, he rested his chin on Valerie's shoulder, massaging his cheeks dramatically.

"For once in my life, I'm tired of smiling," Roman heard Valerie giggle noiselessly beside him when he pressed a kiss to her neck.

Twirling the rose she'd caught in her fingers, "I'm sure you're not the only one, my Prince," pouting, he wrapped a warm hand around her waist and led her back into the City Centre. The parade had gone off without a hitch, everyone smiling and waving, blowing kisses and catching roses in their teeth. Though, to be honest, it was almost pitiful to watch.

Roman had come to learn that costumes only looked good on teens or those who kept their bodies in good shape. For those who were wasted away on drugs or stuck in dangerous pits in their minds, it was pathetic, so much so that Roman felt embarrassed for them. Valerie's hand squeezing his pulled him from his thoughts, refocusing on Patton who was striding towards them.

"You two were amazing out there! Patton exclaimed, adjusting his glasses when he nearly ran into Valerie. "You left a burning impression on everyone there!"

"Thanks, Patton," Valerie smiled, leaving Roman's side to give the other man a hug.

"Come along, everyone. I'm positively famished!"

***

Patton left to find Chrysos before dinner, leaving Roman and Valerie alone in Victor's Tower. Everything had remained the same from the first time they arrived one year ago, from the placement of furniture to the arrangement of Avoxes, it was all uncomfortably familiar. Roman was just finishing off a jelly covered roll that he stole off the table when Patton reentered, dragging a flustered Chrysos along with her.

"Hey, Roman! Where'd you get the roll from?"

"Oh, nowhere," he hummed, stuffing the last few bites into his mouth.

"Well, Val better roll on in here if she doesn't want us to start without her," the other man chirped, sinking into his seat while Chrysos reluctantly sat in another.

"She'll be here soon," Roman said, settling into the seat to Patton's left, grabbing his plate and loading it with rice and stew, and a tender leg of rabbit, exploding with flavour and memories of home. He had to gorge on as much food as he could; after all, a skinny tribute was a dead one.

"So," Patton began, switching on the holo, "do you want to watch the Victor's Parade?"

"Why not," said Valerie, slipping into the room and sitting opposite to Roman. They were shown the highlights of the parade, Roman groaning internally when he saw his plastic, too bright smile. Two announcers made commentary as each Victor passed, discussing their costumes and the design choices made by their stylists. The constant droning from the holo filled the once awkward silence, the tension finally washing away from his shoulders.

Their attention was drawn away from the holo when Chrysos cleared her throat daintily.

"Are you two...ready for training tomorrow? I mean, do you know who you would like as allies?" she asked, her sounding awkward and forced. Roman blinked in surprise; in the time that he knew her, the Capitol woman had never once expressed outward interest in their training, or them in general. Roman was almost sure that she only cared about the show and not the actors behind it.

"Training should be fine," Valerie said, swallowing her last bite of wild groosling. "Allies though. That's the question." Roman nodded.

"Making alliances with other tributes isn't something we want to do. We'll mainly go solo, right, love?" Chrysos frowned at Valerie, a frown pressing her lips tightly together.

"Well, perhaps it would be in your best interests to make allies. Maybe the boy from 7. That would definitely be interesting!" Roman suppressed a growl. So that was what Chrysos wanted. It was all about the performance for that woman. "I'm just saying, think about it. The Star-Crossed Lovers, allies with the youngest Victor in history, who was the ally of your brother! It's almost poetic," she gushed, a dreamy look in her eyes.

"Thank you for the advice, Chrysos. We'll be sure to think about what you said, but Valerie and I will make our own decisions," he said coldly, struggling to keep his temper under control, but Chrysos didn't seem fazed by Roman's hostility, stabbing the yolk of her egg with a satisfied grin.

"Well, Chrysos does bring up a poi-"

"Patton. We're done talking about allies." the table was bathed in an uncomfortable silence. Roman's ears felt hot when he saw hurt glistening in Patton's eyes.

"That's not what I meant, kiddo. I was trying to ask if you were ready for training tomorrow" Patton's voice was calm and soothing, making Roman feel guiltier about yelling at him.

"We've been training at home, actually," said Valerie, easily covering for Roman. "It'll be good to practice things with proper resources finally!" Patton nodded approvingly, signalling for an Avox to refill his glass.

Roman quietly excused himself from the table and headed to his room, unable to meet Patton's gaze. A hot shower and quick change later and Roman was laying on the silky sheets of the Capitol bed, staring at the blank ceiling above him. Closing his eyes, he made a weak attempt to fall asleep, ignoring the ache in his heart and the nagging voice in his mind, telling him that he needed to apologize. Roman hated to think that Chrysos had a point. The Games were truly just a show, a spectacle there to entertain the Capitol and punish the districts, meaning that if he wanted to survive longer than the first few days, he needed to entice the Capitol.

And if it was a show they wanted, then Roman would put on the best damn show they would ever see.

***

Both Valerie and Roman were up bright and early for next mornings training, hastily eating breakfast before entering the training arena. Roman was expecting them to be one one of the first few there, but most of the tributes had already arrived and split off into different groups to work at different stations. He saw Valerie shrug beside him and head over to the Edible Plant's station and Roman thought about going to the ropes course, but the net had been cut loose from its bindings and was now nowhere to be seen.

He saw most of the careers stretching, readying themselves for weapons training and the morphlings from 6 were sitting by the paints and camouflage area, the woman painting swirls and strange patterns onto her arm while her partner lay beside her, a dead look in his eyes. To his left, he saw the district 3 duo and Dot from 7 working on fire-starting in the corner, working with flint and flimsy sticks in an attempt to get a spark. Other than that, though, most of the tributes there weren't training.

 _Where's Virgil?_ Roman thought, finding it odd to see Dot without Virgil. They were often seen close together and now seeing her alone was unsettling in a strange way.

"Morning, Princey," Roman looked up to find the source of the voice, only to have the handle of a dagger dropped unceremoniously onto his face. Rubbing his now sore nose, he glanced up to the ceiling to find Virgil lounging on a braided climbing net. _Ah, so that's where it was_. The younger man had the blade from the dagger between his fingers and his other arm cushioned his head, a smirk painting his thin lips.

"Really? Princey? Is that the best nickname you could think of?"

"How are you, this fine morning? You get enough sleep?" he asked, ignoring Roman's comment completely. He scowled at the sarcastic tone of the younger Victor's voice, which like a completely different person from the night of the Tour.

"Oh, I slept fine, thank you very much. Though I must say, you look as if you need much more sleep than me."

"Virgil! You need to be careful with that!" Logan had turned his focus away from the smouldering tinder to scold him when the teen dropped the blade, landing inches from Roman's foot.

"Come on, Logan. Sir sing-a-lot's fine. See," he turned to point at Roman's foot, an almost playful gleam in his eye, "everything's still intact," Logan gave an exasperated noise, continuing to berate Virgil for his reckless actions and Roman wanted to say something, but he felt paralyzed. His blood felt like ice in his veins, freezing his muscles and chilling him to the bone. The joking way the younger Victor tossed around knives and played with the blades of daggers, the confidence that he had with a weapon in his palm, it was unnerving.

A firm hand on his shoulder shocked him back to reality.

"My sincerest apologies for his behaviour. I suppose he's a bit...excited? I'm not exactly sure," he gave Roman a slight smile. "You look a tad lost. Would you like to join us?"

"Uh, sure," he followed the other man, trying to regain his composure and shake off the feeling of violet eyes boring into his skin.

***

Roman had gone through three stations when lunch was called. As it turns out, Logan was a pretty good partner, offering vital information and providing advice on performing different practical skills. The only thing he was lacking in was physical abilities, being better at using his head to configure traps than hand to hand combat.

"Ah, I'm so hungry," he groaned, practically falling onto a seat beside Valerie who was already eating. Logan wrinkled his nose slightly and shifted away from Roman when he began stuffing his face with food from the assorted platters.

"Have some self-control, would you?"

"Oh, bite me, calculator watch." Valerie giggled beside Roman, running her hands through his hair gently.

"He has a point, love."

"But dearest!" he whined, pouting at her dramatically as Logan rolled his eyes. "Did you make any new friends?"

"Yeah," she said, her voice soft, bleeding with sadness. "The tributes from 11 are both really nice and they both like singing too. It's a shame they were chosen. I think we all could've been friends." Roman took Valerie's hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

"Actually, a lot of Capitol people aren't too thrilled that Victor's were chosen, especially you two," interjected Logan, pushing his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose. "They become very attached to the Victor's that they like and some don't want to see them go. Others believe that it will give this year games higher stakes." Logan cleared his throat awkwardly when the table fell into silence. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"No, that's not it," said Roman, shaking his head. "I guess we're just surprised that anyone from the Capitol would care if we died." Logan nodded slowly, his cheeks flushing a soft pink from embarrassment.

Wiping his mouth and standing, "Come on, nerd. I want to get my hands on that sword before someone else takes it from me!"

"You go ahead first. I, for one, will actually enjoy my meal instead of eating like an animal." Roman rolled his eyes before heading to the weapons station, pulling the sword off the rack and revelling in the feeling of the sword in his palm. The rough bark of the branches felt like torture compared to the smooth leather handle of the longsword, velvety soft against his fingers. After a few practise swings to get used to the weight, he was plunging and slashing the blade through several practice dummies.

"It would be better if you did that with the simulation," a voice to his left startled Roman so bad that he dropped the sword, clattering against the concrete floor noisily.

"Virgil! I didn't see you there," the teen looked up to meet Roman's gaze from where he was sitting. "Why are you here?"

"I could ask you the same question."

"I'm here to train. You look like you're just sitting around."

The teen smiled and leaned back against the wall. "Maybe I am."

"You didn't eat lunch."

"I don't want to be near people."

Roman frowned. "You really should be eating. It's unhealthy," an uncomfortable feeling flooded Roman's veins. _Was he being too casual? God, he probably sounded really weird._

Virgil chuckled softly, a tiny smile painting his features and an almost wistful look in his eyes, making Roman's heart jump out of his chest. "Aw, that's sweet, Princey." Roman was left stunned when Virgil got up and walked away, going who knows where.

Roman spent the rest of the afternoon dazed and distracted, making Logan more and more irritated as the hours went by.

"Hey. You ok?" He looked up in surprise. _When did Valerie get here? And where was Logan?_ "Come on, everyone's gone already."

"Ah, sorry, love. I guess I'm a little..." Valerie smiles in understanding, grabbing the sword out of his right hand and placing it back on the stand. She led them out of the training centre, giving short farewells to the last remaining trainers and tributes before entering the glass elevator heading to the 12th floor. Valerie glanced at Roman, who was still uncharacteristically quiet. "What are you thinking about, my Prince?"

"Oh nothing much," he mumbled, unwilling to look in Valerie's eyes. Not when his thoughts were focused on the purple-eyed teen who Roman was far too interested in, with them just being acquaintances.

"Is it the other tributes? I understand," she soothed, not noticing Roman's lie, "I know it's hard to meet them, but we should try working with them."

Roman kissed the top of her head, letting her comfortable scent slow the mile-a-minute thoughts in his head. "You know me too well, my dearest."

***

Over the next week and a half, Roman practised as many skills as he could as well as learning a few. Logan managed to teach him some of the basics of the circuits embedded throughout the arena and how he could use them as weapons. Dot taught him how to weave strong, thick ropes out of practically anything and the tributes from 11 went over different antidotes to wild poisons and stings.

Today was evaluation day, the day where tributes would individually head into the training centre and show off their skills for the game makers. They would then be given a score out of 12 depending on skills demonstrated throughout training and whatever they decided to show the game makers. Most of the tributes probably had an idea of what they would show the game makers, but Roman hadn't been planning this at all.

"You should have thought of a skill to show earlier in the week, Roman," chided Logan, folding his arms in front of his chest.

"I'm aware, ok," groaned Roman, running a stressed hand through his hair. "I just didn't know what to do. There's nothing I can think of that's creative enough."

"So don't do something creative. Just show off a skill, do it well, and get a good score."

"You say that like it's easy."

"Come on, love," said Valerie, placing a nervous hand on his back. "I'm sure you'll think of something." Before Roman could respond, a robotic female voice rang through the waiting area.

"Logan Flux." Logan stood up quickly, brushing imaginary dust off his clothing before turning to Roman.

"You have at least 40 minutes to think of something. Good luck."

"You too." The man nodded and exited through the heavy metal door, closing it with a click.

"What do you think he'll do?" asked Valerie.

"Something technical, I guess."

Over the next 40 minutes, Roman had yet to think of a skill to show. He thought about shooting something or using his sword to do whatever, but he wanted to do something special. Something that would shock the game makers. Either that or he could try playing it safe, getting a low score as to not become a target, not like that was likely though.

"Roman Prince." He let out a quick breath, giving Valerie's hand a reassuring squeeze before heading to the door. The training centre looked more intimidating without all the tribute inside, the hollow echo of his boots ringing throughout the room. One thing that caught his attention was the dark green, almost black liquid splattered on the wall closest to the game maker viewing station, eating and corroding away the thick concrete, no doubt Virgil's work. Roman also noted the lack of metallic sheen covering the viewing platform. The forcefield that once protected the game makers were now gone, likely done by either Logan or Dahlia.

Roman wanted to scream. _Why were their ideas so much better!_

"Mr Prince. You may start now," called one of the game makers, though most of their attention was directed at the platters of food before them. Roman headed towards the weapons station, half giving up on the idea of thinking of something creative, but then he saw the training dummies. Grabbing one of them, Roman dragged it over to the paints section, trying not to grimace when he saw the state of it. The morphlings really needed to clean up after themselves. Grabbing as many reds and browns as he could, he dipped his fingers into the paints and started working, praying that he remembered Valerie's painting lessons.

Carefully hiding his work from view, he painted on as many gory details that he could remember from the clip, the man's dead eyes and the many gunshot wounds that littered his body. Once he was happy with his work, he moved the dummy to the knot tying course, tying a quick noose and strung up the dummy. He heard a loud gasp from the viewing platform. The dummy was now a man from 8 that Roman saw in those security tapes from six months prior, hung by peacekeepers to keep him quiet and shot at from the ground into a bloody pulp.

Turning to see the game makers, he straightened his back, bowed, and left the room, not bothering to look back at their horrified faces.

***

The Capitol anthem rang through the large dining room, bringing everyone's attention to the holo.

"You two excited to see your scores?" Patton asked.

"Not really," Roman admitted. After having the time to truly think about what he had done, Roman was very much regretting his demonstration. He had no clue if what he did was even legal, maybe he would be killed tomorrow or graphically dismembered on screen for the President's pleasure.

"Aw, come on, Champ! I'm sure you two did fantastically!" Most of the scores were predictable; the careers getting high scores, the man from 1 claiming an admirable 11, Roman making a mental note to stay as far away from him as possible. Logan managed a considerable score of 10 while Virgil managed an 11, most likely because the game makers were intimidated by their threatening actions and wanted to make them a target.

"And now for our last district, district 12! The two Star-Crosses Lovers competing together, it's sure to make for an interesting Games, isn't that right, Chazos?" the man in a horrific mustard yellow suit began, turning to the announcer at his right.

"That's right, Anoitos! Let's take a look at those scores!" the holographic screen behind them showed the Panam seal before continuing. "Roman Prince, with a score of," Roman held his breath, squeezing his eyes shut, "12." He heard Patton gasp beside him, a shaky hand clasping his shoulder.

"And Valerie Torres, with a score of, 12." Roman turned to look at Valerie who looked just as shocked as he did.

"That's amazing, you two! I don't think any district has ever gotten perfect scores before!" the designer's voice sounded happy, but there were undertones of sadness that Roman couldn't understand. The two announcers continue to drone on, but Roman didn't care. Both he and Valerie knew that having perfect scores was a death sentence, making them both main targets for the other tributes. Suddenly, the food in his mouth tasted like coal dust.

Later that night, Valerie tucked herself into Roman's side, pulling the covers up to her watery eyes.

"Roman," she whispered, "what will happen to us?"

"I don't know," he murmured, gently petting her dark locks.

"I'm scared."

"I know, love. I'm scared too." The sleepless night was spent crying into each other's arms, in anger and in sorrow, in fear and in frustration. Patton knocking on their door the next morning signalled for them to get out of bed and act normal for another day.

"Up and at em', kiddos! Interviews are today and we're getting ready early!" similar to the parade, Roman and Valerie we're separated at breakfast to get ready, washed, waxed, and plucked until the makeup crew was happy. Unlike the parade though, Patton was attending the Valerie first.

"I wanted to show the Capitol what your wedding would be like if you weren't chosen," he explained, his voice soft and strained. Roman had never seen Patton's plans for Valerie's wedding dress, but he knew that whatever he designed, it would look amazing. Wincing when one of the new makeup artists poked him in the eye, the shifted his gaze the now open door.

"Guess what I have?" called Patton, his voice sing-songy and excited.

"What do you have?" Roman asked, humouring Patton.

"It's your suit!" he gestured to the white garment bag on his arm. "It matches Valerie's." motioning for the makeup crew to leave, Patton hung the bag onto a hook and carefully unzipped it, revealing a simple white suit. "Sorry it's a bit boring," he said, tucking a sandy curl back behind his ear.

"I think it's lovely, Patton. A dashing suit for a dashing Prince!" Patton smiled at Romans words, placing dress shoes under the bag.

"Great! Suit up and wait here. I'll be back in about 10 minutes," and with that, Patton was bustling out of the room to tend to Valerie. Adjusting the cuffs of the suit, he waited, as per Patton's instructions, until he heard the other man calling for him to join them. "Tada! Your beautiful bride!"

Roman felt as if he was physically blown away. Patton had truly outdone himself with the gossamer-silk wedding dress, shining like a fire crackling in the hearth. A thin, veil-like barrette was clipped into her hair adorned with rubies in the pattern of Roman's pin.

"You look...absolutely stunning, my dearest," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of her hand, ignoring the stab in his chest when he saw the pain in her eyes. Roman knew she didn't want him to say it; she wanted another.

"Let's go, kids! There's only an hour before the show starts!" herding them along the twisting hallways of the tribute centre, Patton led them backstage where people were still setting up for the interviews Several other tributes were already milling about, including Logan. Pulling Valerie away, Roman led them to a more secluded area so Logan and Patton could talk, seeing as it might be their last chance to.

One by one, the tributes from each district went for their interview, females then males. The careers were notably terrifying, showing extreme confidence in their skills and informing the interviewer that they would win for their district. Logan remained formal and proper throughout, answering questions about his games and how he feels about the Quarter Quell.

"I wish I could say that I'm excited, but in all honesty, I would rather not see my friends die." Roman could here several scattered cheers in the crowd, proving Logan's point that there were, in fact, people who didn't want these games to happen. The morphlings were characteristically high for the interview though, Roman never knew how they managed to get their hands on more morphling. Dot, being unable to speak, was asked yes or no questions, mainly related to her kids and her life at Victor's village. The tears in her eyes by the end of the interview said enough about her feelings on the games and garnered sympathy from the crowd.

Virgil's interview definitely stuck with people. The baby of the Capitol, their Golden boy was ready to defend his ranking as Victor of the Hunger Games. His stylist had dyed his hair the same shade of purple as his eyes, complimenting his dark purple and black suit nicely. His answers were shakey and nervous, he seemingly reverted back to how he acted during the Victor's tour.

"Is there anything you wish the other tributes to know?" asked the interviewer, the standard last question.

"I want everyone to knew that I'm not just some kid anymore. Don't underestimate me just because you think I'm still that little boy from the arena. I'm just as dangerous as everyone else," his words were cold as ice, reflecting just how dangerous he actually was.

Virgil's words shook Roman to the very core, and before he knew it, Valerie was already walking on stage, the soft clicking of her heels the only sound Roman could focus on. He heard the crowd gasp.

"My goodness, Ms Torres. That's such a beautiful dress."

"Thank you very much. It's the dress I would've worn for my wedding," she whispered, the sadness in her voice even fooling Roman. As the interview went on, she was asked questions about her score, the interviewer marvelling at her perfect 12 and asking how she managed to attain such a high number. Her interview was over sooner than Roman would've liked, forcing Roman on stage when he was less than prepared. Putting on a smile, he walked on stage.

Answering the basic questions about his score and the cancellation of his and Valerie's wedding.

"It absolutely breaks my heart that I can't be joined with my other half," he whispered, quickly brushing away a few tears for good measure. The interviewer gave his sympathies before jumping into his next question.

"Now, I know that as someone so incredibly young, there must be so many things you want to do. So I must, do you have any regrets?

Roman sighed, thinking about how to answer. With all the outrage against this year's games, there was still a slim chance that it could be stopped. Sucking in a breath, "I would have no regrets," he started, meeting Valerie's gaze from the left of the stage, "if it weren't for the baby."

***

The screams of outrage from the crowd still echoed through his ears, louder than his thoughts and louder than the words spilling from everyone's mouth, despite it happening nearly five days ago. Once Roman said what he said, they were all ushered off stage and quickly led away back to their living quarters.

Valerie and Patton were hysterical, Valerie thanking him endlessly while Patton was sobbing for both of them, mourning their make-belief child. They were led to their rooms by the Avoxes and locked in, unable to leave.

Now, however, he couldn't worry about that. It was the first day of the 75th Hunger Games. Later that day, they would be sent off by hovercraft to the arena and set free to slaughter each other. Both Roman and Valerie could barely stomach anything but choked down as much food as they could. Patton had left earlier that morning to visit Logan and would return later at the arena to bid his farewells to them.

Standing in the lonely room under the arena, he smoothed the wetsuit like uniform for the nth time in five minutes. Patton would be here soon, but he was seeing Valerie off first before leaving her with a makeup artists she bonded with. He turned when the door opened, revealing a dishevelled and teary-eyed Patton rushing into his arms. Squeezing his arms around Patton, he tried desperately to comfort himself and calm his racing heart.

"I'm so sorry," Patton gasped, fisting the fabric at Roman's back. "I'm so, so sorry." Roman didn't say anything, partially because he didn't know what to say but mainly because he didn't want to burst into tears. Their embrace was cut cruelly short when a robotic voice called for them to get into the podiums. Patton quickly pulled out Roman's pin from his pocket, clipping it to his chest before Roman staggered into the tube, awaiting the games.

The was fully sealed when Roman saw the door open. Peacekeepers flooded into the room grabbing Patton by the arms.

"Patton!" he screamed, "Patton run!" fists pounding on the heavy, soundproof glass. Grabbing at where the tube had sealed, he struggled to open the glass though he knew it was futile. He could do nothing but watch as the peacekeepers beat Patton until he was bloody and broken and drag his unconscious form out of the room. He felt tears spill down his cheeks, his screams landing on deaf ears as the tube began to rise, throwing him into the arena. Hyperventilating, Roman blinked through his tears to see where he was.

Water. That was the first thing he saw. All around him and enclosing him in a small space. Exotic trees and vines surrounded the cornucopia, placing everyone in a jungle-like environment that Roman had only ever heard about in stories.

 _Valerie_ , he thought, gasping as his vision cleared. _Where's Valerie?_

Frantically, he whipped his head around, trying to catch a glimpse of oh so familiar dark chocolate hair. Where is she?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really need to edit everything before I post it. Kudos to whoever can figure out the names of the announcers.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @lord-cheesecake if you want.


	6. Chapter 5

Time seemed to slow as Roman studied the area, locating different tributes around him and scanned the Cornucopia for weapons he could use. Packs of food, ropes, and other survival equipment laid in heaps near the centre of the dome, making it near impossible to get them and there, lying just at the edge of the golden dome, was a longsword and a bow and arrow sheath. It was at a spot that was safe enough for him to go for but still nonetheless dangerous for him to even go near the Cornucopia.

Tributes surrounded the Cornucopia, connected by pathways of slick, jagged rocks, surrounded by raging waves and torrential waters. Looking around at the blurry faces, though, he still couldn't find Valerie. The logical part of Roman's brain told him that she was probably just on the other side, but the more irrational side of his mind was screaming at him that Valerie had been stolen away like Patton.

A short swim away, there was a beach of black sand, offering safety and shelter from the other tributes along with a myriad of other problems behind the waxy foliage. Roman could feel the adrenaline buzzing through his bloodstream as the robotic voice began counting down from 10.

"10...9."

'Keep your cool, Roman.'

"8...7."

'Stay calm.'

"6."

"Get the bow,"

"5."

', or the sword,"

"4...3."

", find Valerie,"

"2...1."

'and get the hell out of here!'

At the sound of the buzzer, Roman took off, feet flying over the rocks as he neared the dome. Watching in his peripheral vision, he saw the man from 1 glaring menacingly at him, his gaze hungry and blood-thirsty. Being one of the first people to reach the dome, Roman dove to the left, just avoiding the whizzing blade of a knife and managing to snag a provisions pack. Shuffling quickly, he grabbed the bow and arrow sheath, whipped around and began sprinting away from the Cornucopia.

His breaths were coming out in heavy pants as he leapt across the rocks, narrowly dodging a fatal hit as a throwing knife skimmed his torso and lodged itself deep into another woman's hip, causing her to fall into the water. Hissing under his breath, he turned to face whoever threw the knife at him, the woman from 9, readied an arrow and fired at the centre of her chest, whispering a silent apology as she fell lifeless to the ground, slipping into the churning depths below.

Before Roman could continue his sprint to the trees, he was brutally shoved into the water, someone jumping in with him, a rough hand smothering his airway while the other held his head under the waves. The taste of salt striking his senses was overwhelming; the sting in his eyes and the bitter taste on his tongue making him gag. Roman desperately clawed at whoever's hand was gripping his throat, fighting the urge to suck in a breath and relieve the burning in his chest. Black was beginning to edge his vision, fogging the world around him, when suddenly, the hand withdrew from its strangling hold around his neck while another arm heaved him out of the water.

Roman coughed and spluttered, retching as he expelled the last of the salt water from his body. Whoever had pulled him out now had a firm grip on his wrist, half dragging half leading Roman out of the bloodbath. Opening his stinging eyes, he saw the body of the man from 4 floating in the spot where he once was, the hilt of a dagger buried deep into the nape of his neck and staining the water red. Lifting his head more, he pulled his pack up over his face wincing when a knife pierced through it. He groggily turned to see the tribute who saved him, half expecting it to be Valerie, but in his foggy state of mind, he couldn't exactly tell who it was.

The adrenaline that once coursed through his veins was draining alarmingly fast, and Roman could now feel every wound on his body, his neck and chest burned and his muscles ached from lack of oxygen. He was promptly pushed into the water once more, his survival instincts quickly kicking in as he heard a voice ordering him to swim. Moving his limbs as best as he could, Roman and the stranger managed to haul each other onto the beach, stumbling into the foliage and collapsing, Roman gasping for breath.

"Come on, Princey. Breath. You're fine." he nodded incoherently, focus sharpening on the familiar voice.

"V-Virgil?" he croaked, staring the teen's wry smile before he was hoisted back onto his feet,

"Come on, lover boy, we gotta move," Virgil grunted. "We're meeting a few others. Then, we'll find somewhere safe to camp.

"Others?" Roman frowned.

"That's what I said, isn't it? I didn't realize that I'd picked up a Jabberjay."

They continued stealthily through the forest, Roman slowly regaining his strength and leaning less on Virgil, though he was still having trouble breathing.

"Virgil!" someone hissed.

'Logan,' Roman thought.

"There you are," panted Virgil, setting Roman down and straightening his back. "I almost thought someone got you," Logan scoffed at Virgil's words, but nonetheless pulled Virgil into a quick hug. "Where are the others?"

"Follow me," Logan easily led them past waxy leaves to a tall tree with gnarled roots. Sitting there was Dhalia, Dot, and Valerie. Upon noticing their presence, Valerie stood abruptly and rushed towards Roman, wrapping him into a loving hug.

"Thank god," she breathed, pressing a chaste kiss to temple before pulling him closer.

Virgil folded his arms across his chest. "I get that you two are, like, really in love and stuff, but we need to move if we don't want careers to pick us off," tossing Roman his bow and arrows, he gently helped Dot stand.

"Just...hold in a second," Roman huffed, too happy about travelling with others. "How do we know we can even trust you guys?" he pulled Valerie behind him and readied an arrow.

Logan raised his arms to appear less threatening. "You needn't worry, Roman,"

Virgil nodded. "You were never told, but Patton arranged for us to be allied with you," Roman opened his mouth to protest but Virgil cut him off. "I know that sound's stupid, but you need to trust us. Trust in Patton that he made the right decision."

"Look at this," said Logan, holding out his left arm to show a red metallic watch with gold patterns. "It's the same metal as your pin. It's our token as your allies." Both Dhalia and Dot raised their own metal tokens, Dhalia's a small earring and Dot's a necklace.

"Though, I wouldn't have gone with red," called Virgil, examining his own metallic bracelet. "Purple or black would've looked nicer." Roman turned to face Valerie.

"They never hurt me. Logan and Dhalia helped me get out of the Cornucopia," nodding slowly, he cautiously lowered his bow, releasing the tension on the string.

"Think about it this way," said Virgil, pulling out knife after knife from his pack, handing two to Valerie before strapping the rest onto his body. "If we wanted to kill you two, we would've done it already." turning around, he placed a hand to Dot's shoulder and began following Logan as they headed downstream. "Come on. We need to find water."

Though unsure, Roman followed the little group, keeping Valerie in his peripherals and the others in his line of sight. They seemingly walked for a few hours, Logan and Dhalia in the lead searching for water and shelter while Virgil took up the rear, keeping an eye out for other tributes. They eventually made their way to a small pond flanked by thick bushes and tall trees, offering ample coverage and protection.

Pulling out the waterskin from his pack, Roman kneeled next to the pond, but Virgil stopped him before he could take a drink.

"We need to check if it's poisoned or not," Roman rolled his eyes.

"Seriously? I mean, the game makers want us to have a bit of a chance, right? Why would they poison the water?"

"He's right, Roman," said Dhalia, pulling the skin out of his hands. "The Capitol knows that Virgil's good at poison and they might try to use that against him."

"Or he's paranoid."

"Shut up, Princey. Does anyone have an iodine dropper?" a unanimous shaking of their heads made the teen groan loudly. Sniffing the edge of the pond and dropping a leaf into it, he brought the opening of the canvas skin to his lips, he took a hesitant sip, making an odd face and scrunching up his eyes.

"What's he doing?" whispered Roman into Logan's ear.

"Virgil's worked with almost every Capitol poison and knows how to identify the most dangerous ones." Standing abruptly, Virgil spat the small mouthful of water onto the dirt and wiped his mouth, pouring the rest of the water out of the waterskin.

"Don't drink that," he coughed. "There's Dillitrio in this. Capitol rat poison."

"Do you think it's everywhere?" asked Valerie, worrying at her lower lip.

Virgil shook his head. "I doubt it, but there's always a possibility."

"What do we do about water, then?"

"It's only been developed to kill animals," he began, looking up to the trees, "but plants should remain unharmed."

***

Chewing leaves was the only way they could access safe water, but with Virgil being the paranoid person he was, made sure to test the leaves as best as he could before letting them chew any of them. The sun was beginning to set over the horizon, casting the dense jungle in dark shadows and soft orange light, just barely piercing through the trees.

Now, sitting in a thick branch of a tree with Valerie pressed to his side, Roman managed to relax ever so slightly. Running a hand through her hair, he watched the sun slowly sink out of view, reminding him of the train ride to the Capitol. Patton's short words of advice rang through Roman's ears, the sureness of his voice and the pleading look in his gaze, begging them to trust his words.

Patton. Did Logan know what happened to Patton? If he did, he sure wasn't expressing any remorse for the other man.

Closing his eyes, he allowed the painful memories to wash over him, almost welcoming the visceral pain in his chest and the vice-like grip on his heart. A rhythmic beeping noise from just over the canopy pulled him from his thoughts, focusing his attention on the unnatural red light flickering just above Roman's head. Reaching upwards, he pulled the pod out of the leaves. It was a sponsor.

"Logan," he hissed, gently pushing Valerie off of him and carefully climbed down, Valerie following him slowly. "Logan look," he passed the pod to the taller man. Twisting the cap open, it revealed a small metal object surrounded by protective foam. A letter with the letters J and T was attached to the outside. "Do you know what it is?"

Before Logan could say anything, Dot approached them, pointing to Virgil then to the object. Picking up the pod, Logan moved to stand beside the teen from his spot beside the pond.

"Virgil. Do you know what this is?" frowning, the teen grabbed the object from Logan's hands to see what it was.

"Oh, come on, Logan. I thought you were smart."

"Don't be smart with me."

"Sorry, sorry. I know that's your job."

"Virgil!"

The teen chuckled softly. "It's a spile," he said, something akin to excitement in his voice. Grabbing a heavy rock, he walked swiftly to the trunk of the tree, hammering the spile into the bark. Almost immediately, water began flowing from the spout, splashing against the ground.

Roman grinned excitedly, smiling at Valerie's delighted gasp and the approving look in Logan's eyes when he adjusted his glasses.

'No more chewing leaves."

***

The Capitol anthem rang through the entire arena, drawing the attention of every tribute to the holographic sky above them. The seal of Panam was shown followed by the pictures of the dead tributes. Roman made a mental note of those who died; the man from 1, the man from 6, the woman from 8, both tributes from 9, the woman from 10, and the woman from 11. 8 deaths in the first 12 hours.

Roma looked back to Valerie who was sleeping soundly, leaning against the trunk of a tree and snoring softly. A part of him wanted to join her, but he couldn't seem to close his eyes for longer than a few minutes. The only other person who was still awake was Virgil, who was sitting on a branch higher up in the trees as a lookout.

"Hey their, friendo," he called, instantly regretting his words once they came out of his mouth. 'I probably sound really stupid,"

"Uh, hey, Princey. What are you doing up here?" the teen looked down to the branch Roman was sitting on.

"Oh, nothing. I just thought you'd like some...company?"

"Like I'd believe that," he snarked, but still gestured for him to come up. "Come on. What is it, loverboy."

Roman let out a dry chuckle before settling into his branch and turning to watch the stars glowing in the projected sky. "I guess I'd rather be with an awake human being at the moment."

"Well, you're in luck cause I'm always awake." They ended up talking about stupid things to fill the silence like their favourite colours and foods.

"I'm actually quite fond of the jelly in the Capitol," Roman admitted, his heart giving a little skip when Virgil smiled.

"Logan's obsessed with jam. Maybe you could sing him a song about it."

They never spoke about specific things, just ambling along with their conversation and filling in the gaps as they went. Roman couldn't help but notice how beautiful the other man looked in the soft light. His pale skin appeared to be glowing and his eyes looked luminous and bright, losing all traces of fatigue from his normally waxy pallor. Combined with the soft breeze mussing his hair gently and the dark shadows highlighting the lines of his muscles, he looked like a Capitol model.

"I thought district 7 people used axes, not knives," Roman commented, pointing to the dagger in Virgil's hands.

"I know how to use an axe, but I don't like them," he wrinkled his nose cutely. "They're clunky and big and they're too heavy for me to carry for long periods of time. Knives are smaller and easier to use, in my opinion. They just, I don't know, it makes me feel better to have a knife in my hand rather than an axe."

Roman didn't remember who started talking about their family first, but there they were; whispering about their homes and their lives back in their districts.

"My father died when I was only 3," said Roman, earning a sympathetic glance for Virgil. "So then it was just my brothers, our mother, and me. And then when Remy died..." Roman's voice trailed off, but Virgil nodded nonetheless.

"I grew up in a community home," mused Virgil, looking out over the quiet jungle, listening to the rumble of an unmoving storm in the distance. Roman was familiar enough with community homes, run down, underfunded facilities meant to house orphaned children. The memory of the blank, vacant eyes of people from those homes made Roman shiver in the humid night air. "My stupid, dumbass parents decided they wanted to 'run away' and 'start a better life in the forest', so they tried to escape the district when I was six months old," he huffed bitterly, running a shaky hand through his hair. "They never made it far, of course. Only 3 miles from the working site. Then, when we were found by the Capitol, I was sent back, but my parents were brought here and were made Avoxes." Virgil's voice was no higher than a whisper, and Roman strained to hear his words.

"I'm so sorry, Virgil," he murmured, feeling pain in his heart for Virgil's parents and his loss. He could only imagine how awful it must have been for Virgil growing up. Peacekeepers in 12 would carefully monitor friends and family of those who tried to escape the districts, sometimes resorting to capital punishment or public whippings.

"Don't worry about it," mumbled Virgil, wiping at his face quickly. The two remained in a comfortable silence for a while, letting the soft glow of the moonlight bathe the area and a cool breeze brush over their faces. Roman was beginning to doze off slightly before he heard a scream in the distance followed by the sound of the canon.

"What was that," called Logan, awoken by the horrific noises in the distance.

"I don't know but it came from far away," said Roman, carefully climbing down followed by Virgil.

"It was just north from here," Virgil grunted, landing next to Roman and moving to Dot who had a worried look on her face. "I think we'll be fine, but we should stay alert."

Logan nodded. "Alright. I'll take watch from here. Get some rest."

"I'm fine, Lo. I can still keep watch."

"No. Despite everything you say, you need to sleep." Virgil glared at Logan but followed his instructions, curling up into a tight ball next to Dot and closed his eyes, looking tired and subdued once more.

"Come on," Valerie whispered. "You need to rest too," she pulled him back to their spot by the tree, settling beside Roman while Logan scaled the tree. The drowsiness that he was feeling earlier was replaced by thrumming adrenaline, still pumping through his veins and making him restless and shaky, but the soft humming from Valerie in his ear calmed his heart.

Blinking sleep out of his eyes, Roman stretched his stiff neck, wondering when he managed to fall back asleep. He shifted his head, trying to nod off once again, but before he could close his eyes, he noticed a uniform mist converging onto their little camp, flowing down the small hills like water. Roman didn't think it was poisonous, it wasn't affecting the surrounding plant-life after all, so he reached out a hand towards the gas, fingers just barely grazing the surface before a stinging, burning pain raced through his hand, leaving burns and blisters on his fingertips.

It was poison. They were trying to gas them out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while. I'm actually pretty happy with how this turned out and I hope you're as excited as I am with finally getting to the games.
> 
> You can check out my tumblr @lord-cheesecake if you want.
> 
> Comments and Kudos are appreciated!


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been gone for a while. I was writing another story called Elder, so please check it out if you have the time!
> 
> Some warnings for this chapter:  
> There is blood, death, and gore in this, so please be careful!!!

Roman jumped backwards, hissing as his skin bubbled with pain. Grabbing Valerie's hand, he yanked her back and away from the fog, startling her awake.

"Wh- Roman! What are you doing?"

"The fog," he called, loudly enough to rouse the others. "Don't touch the fog!" Logan quickly climbed down from the tree, grabbing his bag and pulling Dhalia up with him. Roman cursed under his breath as another wave of pain washed over his hand.

"Don't touch it," Virgil panted, eyes wide and crazy, "It'll burn you."

"Oh, thanks for the advice, genius!" Roman let out a surprised noise as Virgil grabbed his wrist and dunked his hand into the pond, sighing as the pain melted away, leaving his skin unblistered and untouched.

"We need to find another source of water. Quickly," he said, keeping his grip firm on Roman's wrist as he started to sprint away from the fog, urging the others to follow suit.

"We can't go to the beach. We're too exposed there."

"We'll figure it out."

Roman gasped as he flew along the forest floor, narrowly dodging low-hanging leaves as the fog nipped at their heels, threatening to swallow them whole. He could hear the others crashing through the undergrowth behind him, veering sharply to the left to avoid the mist as it converged at their side. A thudding noise accompanied by a low groan pulled his attention behind him to where Dot was lying face first in the mud, her ankle twisted at an odd angle as she struggled to get back up.

"Come on," Virgil shouted, grabbing Dot's outstretched hands and trying his best to pull her back, but she stumbled, unable to put any weight in her injured leg. "Come on we're almost there, Dot! We need to keep moving!" he cursed loudly as the fog ghosted over his back. "Dot, please," he tugged at her hand with as much strength as he could muster, but she shook her head, pushing him roughly away from her. "Roman!" he gasped, desperation dripping from his voice as he glanced back to him with begging eyes. "Roman help me!"

Gritting his teeth, he looked to Virgil, with his pitiful, pleading gaze, and to Dot, looking just as desperate, but with her dead ankle...

Rushing forward, he grabbed Virgil, holding the younger close to his chest as he struggled in his hold, screaming profanities at Roman as he ushered them away.

"Roman! What the hell do you think you're doing! Dot! Dot!" ignoring his words, Roman bit his lip and gave a silent apology to Dot as the canon sounded. He felt Virgil go stiff in his arms and for a second, he thought that Virgil would finally settle, but instead, his wriggling increased. "DOT!" he screamed, punching at Roman's arms. "DOT NO! Remy let me go! Remy NO. Let me go!"

Roman felt as if he'd been punched in the gut. Remy? Did he remind him of his dead ally?

Shaking his head, he urged himself forwards, ignoring the shrill screaming in his ears and the ache in his heart. "We have to keep moving," he grunted down to the teary-eyed boy in his arms. "She would've wanted you to keep going."

His legs burned as he ran, lungs and arms aching with the added weight despite the adrenaline that boosted through his system but he pressed on nonetheless. Logan and the others were a good few paces ahead and in the darkness, it was almost impossible to see where they were, but he could hear them, sounding so close and yet so far.

"Logan," Roman yelled, hoping that someone on his side would find him, letting out a yelp of pain as the fog flowed over his feet. Stumbling, he didn't notice the sharp drop in front of him and he fell forward, flinging Virgil out of his arms as they tumbled down the edge. Bringing his hands up to his head, Roman grunted as he rolled over rocks and bumps for what seemed like forever before coming to a stop.

Roman heard someone gasp above him and suddenly, there were hands all over him, unravelling his twisted limbs and touching his face.

"Roman," she sobbed, pulling their foreheads together and holding him tight.

"Valerie," he croaked.

"I thought you died."

"I would never leave you." Roman could hear Virgil groaning softly in the background, Logan helping him stand and keep him steady.

"What happened," Logan demanded. "Where's Dot?"

"She tripped. We couldn't carry her so she sacrificed herself to save us," Roman heard Virgil moan softly at his words, pulling at his hair as tears streamed down his face. "Are we safe here?"

Before Logan could answer, the fog reappeared, rolling down the steep drop and making its way steadily towards them. Roman scrambled to his feet, ready to run but his legs buckled beneath him and gave in under his weight. Valerie pulled him close to her chest, hiding his face as they stared death in the eyes.

But before the smoke could reach them, it stopped, seemingly blocked by an invisible wall and dissipating into thin air.

"What the..."

"It stopped. Why did it stop," Roman turned to Logan, but he looked just as confused as they did.

"Why would you expect me to know why it stopped?"

"I dunno. Maybe because you're the smart one?" Logan rolled his eyes but before he could reply, Dhalia stepped in.

"We can't argue here. Not when you and Virgil are still injured." Roman frowned as she approached an uncharacteristically quiet Virgil.

"Aren't you guys injured too?" he asked, examining Valerie's hands, which he was sure were burned just earlier.

"There's a pond here," Valerie helped him up and lead him towards the pond, pouring cool water over his burns and soothing his aching skin, Virgil whimpering softly beside him as Logan and Dhalia jostled his limbs. There was more light in the tiny clearing and Roman could see the full extent of the blisters wreathing his body, surrounding his face and bubbling up his arms and legs. Virgil, though looking better than Roman, had burns all over his back and sides, a few pus-filled boils having popped during their sprint to safety and soaking through his wetsuit, making Roman feel sick.

"We'll rest here for the time being." Logan pulled out the spile and stabbed it into a nearby tree. "We'll keep moving once we're recovered. I'll take first watch." The troubled, guilty look in his eyes didn't go unnoticed by Roman as the older tribute scaled the tree.

"What's wrong with Logan?"

"Maybe he feels guilty." he hummed softly, allowing himself to relax his tense muscles. The party managed to rest for a while, though it was hard to truly relax with the soft cries emanating from Virgil every once in a while.

A loud rustling in the underbrush snapped Roman back to attention, his hands travelling to his bow just in case. Valerie pulled her knife out from its sheath on her belt while Logan hopped down to a lower branch, safe and out of danger but ready to move in for a fight. The snapping of branches and the sounds of something padding along the muddy earth surrounded them, growing louder and louder until it stopped.

Before Roman could react, a giant, hulking beast burst from its spot hidden in a bush, teeth bared and lunging towards Valerie. All at once, several other beasts rushed towards them, their shrill calls and sharp fangs glinting in the moonlight. Spinning as fast as he could, Roman quickly shot two arrows at the chest of the first beast, stepping around to shoot a second as the first fell to the ground unmoving. Logan had jumped down from his vantage point, the machete once clipped to his side now held in his palms and striking down at the skull of a beast that ventured too close to his feet. Virgil and Dhalia were fighting side by side, daggers in hand and slashing at the creatures that threatened to move closer.

Whipping his head around, Roman noticed a small opening just left from where he stood. A trail where the foliage was thinner and the leaves were brushed away to reveal the beach, empty and free of the beasts that circled them. In his split-second judgment, he guesstimated that it was at least one kilometre away, which would be a gruelling and tiring journey, especially with blood-thirsty mutts on their heels, but it was the best chance they had.

"We need to get to the beach," he bellowed, aiming an arrow at a mutt that pounced on Logan, throwing it off the other man as it rolled into the water, shrieking in pain.

"We don't know if it's safe there!"

"It's our best chance!" he ducked as Valerie stabbed the beast above him and began heading towards the opening, grabbing the spile as he ran. "Come on!"

The sprint through the trees was absolute torture on Roman's muscles, but he pressed on, rolling forwards as a beast lunged at his head and pinned him down. Roman panted with effort as he pushed his bow up and into the beast's face, preventing it from tearing at his throat, but the beast was strong and he didn't know how long he could keep it away.

"Stay sharp, Princey," Virgil threw a dagger at the mutt's eye, effectively stopping it in its tracks before slicing at its neck, spilling dark blood across the forest floor and onto Roman's body. "Keep moving," he grunted, offering Roman a hand and pulling him up. "We're behind you." Nodding, he ploughed on, turning back every once in a while to shoot at an oncoming beast and urge the others to keep going.

They were close. So agonizingly close, that when he heard the scream, the survivalist part of his brain longed to ignore it while the sensible part of his mind pulled his legs to a stop. The yelp of pain, the very feminine yelp of pain, that rang through the trees made his blood run cold.

"What was that," he gasped.

"What w- who cares! Just keep moving!" Virgil looked panicky and flighty as he sped off, his fight or flight kicking in and his self-preservation instinct told him to run. Roman couldn't blame him, though. He still wanted to run too.

But the fear that she was dead made him turn back racing towards the source of the scream. The sound of the canon made his heart speed up and his eyes dilate with fear.

"No," he panted. "No no no no. Valerie!" he screamed, his bow at the ready as his eyes frantically searched the area for signs of life. "Valerie!"

"Roman," someone wailed, rushing towards him.

"Val?"

"Roman!" Valerie's smaller body nearly bowled Roman over as she ran towards him, something in her arms. "You need to help her,"

"What?" staring down to the thing in her arms, he understood. Squashing down the overwhelming urge to vomit, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back onto the trail.

"Logan can help her," he muttered, half praying that his words were true. Eventually, the opening of the trail neared and the two burst out onto the sand, racing down the beach as stealthily as he could while dragging along his lover who was carrying the disembodied pieces of what was left of Dhalia's body. Roman saw a rather discrete hand shoot up from the shelter of a rock, red metal glinting in the light.

Gasping for breath, he collapsed under the rock, releasing Valerie from his hold and prying the body from her clammy hands. Now, getting a good look at her, Roman knew that there was no helping her. Her whole body was a bloody, mangled mess, torn and ripped flesh spattering blood across the sand. A part of her torso had been bitten clean off, burning a gruesome image of her insides spilling out of her body into Roman's mind.

He couldn't help the rush of nausea that flowed through him as he leaned away to spit up the few swallows of water and the cracker he'd eaten earlier. Valerie's sobbing became distant noise as the hovercraft flew in to carry away her body. Logan dragged her out onto the sand and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. Roman could see his mouth moving ever so slightly, but he looked away. It wasn't his right to encroach on his privacy.

Instead, he sent a silent prayer for Dhalia as the craft pulled up her mangled body as the sun rose behind them, casting them in an orange halo.

For a split second, everything was beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure my blood and gore boner is gone for now. Again, sorry this was late and as always, comments and kudos are appreciated!!!


	8. Chapter 7

Roman cringed as he scrubbed at his uniform, struggling in vain to remove the giant red-brown splotches marring the once white patches. Shaking his hands dry, he ran them over his face and wiped the sweat accumulating at his brow, the bitter taste of salt on his tongue numbing the ache in his heart. Their group had gone from 6 people strong down to a measly four, two of which were still grieving the loss of their teammates.

Virgil had retreated back into his shell, the urgency of survival fleeing his veins leaving him a tired, tearful mess under the shelter of the rock. Logan, on the other hand, looked slightly better than Virgil, on the outside, at least. The other man was standing beside Roman, rubbing at his long clean hands with vigour, as if he could still see the blood dripping from his fingertips.

"Logan," Roman placed a cautious hand on Logan's shoulder, effectively snapping him out of his trance-like state.

Logan turned his head sharply to look at Roman, his shaking hands slowing. "Ah, R-Roman. What is it?"

"Are you...alright?"

"O-Of course I am. Just a bit s-shaken is all."

Roman gave him a sceptical look. "If you want to talk about it, I'm always willing to listen." Logan looked hesitant at first, but eventually, his defences fell, making him look vulnerable and tired.

"I...I suppose I just feel guilty," when Roman didn't interject, he continued. "It was my job to stand watch. My job to find threats and keep us safe. My job to see the smoke, or hear the mutts before they came to us. If I had seen everything before, no one would've died."

Roman placed a gentle hand to his back as the man let out a choked sob, muffled and quieted by his hand.

"It wasn't your fault."

"How can you be sure! For all we know, had I been more vigilant, we would all still be here! We would all still have the chance to see everyone waiting back at home." Logan let out a few more huffing, breathless noises before going completely quiet.

Roman didn't know what to say. A part of him also wanted to blame Logan; to accuse his mistakes for the death of their allies. It would be a relief for everyone if they could take all their guilt and misery and put it onto another's shoulders, but the sensible part of him shoved those thoughts deep, deep down to where he would hopefully never think of them again.

"They never would have died if the game makers didn't decide to poison them or tear them apart," he gave Logan's shoulder a squeeze, ignoring the fact that saying these things would definitely lose him, sponsors. "If anything, they are to blame. Not you. You did your best to keep us safe, and look at what you accomplished! You've helped keep all of us safe and that's better than having us all succumb to those... chimaera things!"

"Chimaera?"

"I thought it was a cool name for those mutts!" Logan cracked the smallest of smiles at Roman's defensive words. "Well, if you're feeling better now, you might as well help me get those clam things from the rocks." Leading them over to the half-submerged stone pathways, the two plucked the small mussels off the rocks and brought back the few they managed to snag.

Placing their haul onto a waxy leaf, Logan sat beside Virgil while Roman moved into the forest to find Valerie, who was collecting water and standing guard.

"We got food now," Roman slid a careful hand to her neck and pressed a soft kiss to the back of her head. "I think we'll be fine for watch duty. I doubt anyone would come to the beach. Especially now."

"And why is that, my Prince?"

"Why, because I am here! No one would dare to step forward while I'm around!" Valerie giggled at Roman eccentricities and grabbed the waterskins and spiles.

"You're so brave, my love."

"Indeed I am." The sweetness and sincerity in Valerie's voice was enough to lift his fallen spirits ever so slightly and give him a bit of hope for the days to come.

* * *

Discarding the last of the shells, Roman leaned back onto the rock, allowing his mind to wander from the immense humidity of midday. Looking at the cornucopia, he noticed that the platform appeared to be spinning; faster and faster, stirring up the waves beneath it and tosing water to the upper banks of the beach, just narrowly avoiding them. His focus, however, was quickly brought back to his allies sitting before him.

"I'm sorry. I was a little bit distracted."

"Yeah, yeah. We all saw you go off to fantasy land," Virgil smirked as Roman let out a mildly offended nice, twirling his knife idly and looking more level-headed than he had just earlier.

"We were just pondering the idea of becoming more offensive rather than staying defensive."

"The only thing is that would make us more of a target."

"Exactly. I agree with Val. Why should we become offensive and make ourselves bigger targets? We're already safer than most because we aren't actively going out to kill people."

"But we have some of the most skilled fighters here," argued Virgil. "I mean, Logan has a total kill count of seven, eight if you count that one girl. I have a kill count of 6, and you and Valerie have a total kill count of 3. We're all experienced and if we all work together to make a plan, we could cut down on the competition. It would be safer for all of us."

Roman cringed slightly at Virgil's mention of the deaths that he and Valerie had caused during their eventfully scarring games. The deaths that the two caused were heavy burdens placed on slim shoulders, shaking from the weight and threatening to topple into total and complete mental breakdown.

"We wouldn't be...harming them in person, of course," said Logan, ever proper with his words. "I happened to come across this in my pack," digging through his bag, Logan unveiled a long spool of thick copper wire. "We could do something similar to what I did in the games. We could create a bait, lure in all those who are bloodthirsty, and electrocute them."

"First of all, I have many concerns about everything you just said. Second, that wire is nowhere long enough to reach the panelling at the edge of the arena. It probably wouldn't even make it halfway. Third, how exactly are we going to make believable bait to bring out the careers! They would easily sense that it was a trap!" finishing his miny rant, Roman folded his arms over his chest, looking expectedly toward his allies for answers.

"Well, I can answer one of your questions. I have deduced that this arena acts in the way that a clock would, with different traps waiting for us in different zones that activate at their corresponding time."

"Human speech, if you will, Nerd."

"He means that the arena's a clock with fun death machines set for each hour, Princey."

"...You could put it that way. Anyways, it is clear to me that at midnight and noon, the trap that was set is the lightning tree." Thinking back to the night before, Roman did recall a tree being struck from the heavens.

"But Roman still has a point," said Valerie "We don't have enough wire to make it that far. That was definitely closer to the panel that to the beach."

"Yes, that is a very good point, but," Logan stood, dusting sand off himself before grabbing a thick vine from beneath the foliage. "This is a very special type of vine. It conducts electricity,"

"Ah, very clever, Logan. Hilarious. But seriously, what are we going to do."

"Trust me. I helped to develop these for the capitol, something about its citizens wanting to be near nature but also wanting said nature to be practical. If you don't believe me, chew on it."

Roman quirked a disbelieving brow but nonetheless, took one end and nibbled the frayed vine. The sharp metallic taste in his mouth and the twinge of something flowing through his teeth made him instantly let go, glaring half-heartedly at Logan.

"Alright. So it does work. Now what," he asked while Valerie nibbled the vine herself, making a face at the flavour.

"Are you really that stupid," huffed Virgil. "We're going to have to harvest as many vines as we can, tie 'em all up, and electrocute a bunch of careers."

"Then for the distraction, what if we started a fight?" Now it was Logan's turn to give a disbelieving look, staring at Valerie with blatant confusion. "It's just that if we start a fight, it'll look like our group is falling apart, making us look vulnerable. Maybe to them, when we're vulnerable is the best time to strike because we'll be off guard and falling apart at the seams."

"...Darling, you are an absolute genius!" Roman leaned over to press a kiss to her head while Virgil fake gagged at their domesticity. "That would work, right?"

Logan pondered the idea for a moment before lamenting. "It's definitely the best shot we got."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late. This is really shitty, I know. Sorry...
> 
> Comments and kudos are appreciated!


	9. Chapter 8

The harsh buzzing of cicadas trilling in the midday heat filled the humid air as the two men hacked and sawed their way through thick groves of leafy green vines. Gripping the vine, Roman tugged heartily at the fraying plant, finally pulling it off of the branch from which it was hanging. He and Virgil had been assigned the task of gathering as many electrical vines as they could so they could execute their plans as soon as possible. With Roman being the physically strongest and Virgil being the most experienced with blades, it was the best choice to send them out while the other two configured the remains of their plan.

Plus, being alone would finally give Roman a chance to ask Virgil about the events of the night before when the younger called him Remy; his brother of whom he only had a faint memory of.

Panting, Roman groaned dramatically, falling onto the side of the tree to catch his breath, the machete carefully lying at his side.

"This is absolutely dreadful!" he whined. "It's too hot and wet and it makes everything sticky and gross," Roman chose to ignore Virgil's eyeroll as the younger continued to slash at his own vine before pulling it apart and tossing it onto the growing pile at their feet. "How can you keep doing that?"

"Because I'm not whining like a giant man baby."

"Hey!" Virgil growled softly at Roman and slid down onto his own tree, taking long gulps from his waterskin. "I'm just more used to arrows, not knives."

"Why don't you use your amazing sword skills and cut down the vines in one fell swoop."

"I thought that a 'master of blade knowledge' would know that swords don't work that way."

"Wow. I actually didn't think you were capable of sarcasm! You continue to impress me, Princey." Roman let out a frustrated noise and picked up his machete and whacked out his frustrations onto the vines.

"Um...listen," murmured Virgil after a few beats of awkward silence. "I just wanted to say sorry. For last night," Roman shot him a quizzical look as he continued. "I must have been hard to carry all the way back, especially if I was struggling the way Logan said I was. It's just...Dot had so much to live for. She had three kids, you know. Kai, Elliott and Emile. I wish I could've kept their mom safe."

Roman was at a slight loss for words at Virgil's tentative voice. "Well, of course I forgive you," he began, ", but I have to ask you something," Virgil's shoulders stiffened ever so slightly. "When I was dragging you away, you called me Remy. Am I...similar to him? I don't really remember him all too well, to be honest. He's just sort of a husk of a memory, really," he stammered, feeling more and more flustered as the words all but tumbled out of his mouth.

"...You do remind me of him," Virgil said softly, his voice nostalgic and almost regretful. "Not only do you look like him, but you act like him too. Dramatic and prideful and always just blurting out what's on your mind. But you're brave like him, strong and someone's who's willing to share a burden," he was quiet for a minute before turning to glance at Roman, his eyes shiny with genuine remorse. "I wish I could have saved him."

Memories of the games flowed through his mind; the relentless pursuit fo the deranged careers following Remy and Virgil, the long spear, glinting in the harsh lights of the desert. Remy pushing Virgil out of the way.

"I'm sorry, Roman," a warm hand found the back of his head, gently pulling him into a warm embrace. "I'm so sorry." Before Roman could sort out the situation in his mind, his arms had already jumped away from his sides and were now would around Virgil's torso. Warm tears fell onto Virgil's shoulder as Roman's chest heaved and gasping sobs escaped his tight throat.

He was unsure of how long they remained together, and by the time his mind had sifted through his foggy thoughts, his breathing had slowed to only the occasional hiccup. Roman didn't want to move. He longed to stay in the warm embrace of another, but he reluctantly let go, wiping his eyes and nose and giving Virgil a watery smile.

"Thank you," he sniffed, noticing that Virgil's eyes were just as red as his.

"Don't mention it," he croaked. "Seriously. I don't want Logan to know I cried." Roman laughed as Virgil's usual snarky attitude re-emerged.

"Not a word."

"Good," standing, Virgil bent down to grab his dagger. "Now, we should really finish this or Logan'll freak."

With a new energy flowing through his veins, he went back to his work with new vigour and strength. It was as if the weight of his dear brother was no longer on his shoulders.

* * *

Hosting the weight of the long vined higher up his shoulders, he continued to follow Virgil through the forest as they headed back to the beach. Each vine that they carried was about 3 metres in length, and with at least 40 vines on each person, it was definitely enough to reach the tree.

Looking forward to where Virgil was walking in front of him, he couldn't help but stare at Virgil as he worked, eyes tracing the lean muscles of his arms and the way his soft looking hair stuck to the nape of his pale neck...

Shaking his head suddenly, he inwardly kicked himself, willing the warm bubbly feeling in the pit of his stomach and the heat creeping up his neck to cease.

Come on! They just had a heart to heart! Was he really willing to ruin that! Why was he thinking about these things? It was...weird, to say the least, especially seeing as he was engaged. Though it was just to protect them. Giving his head another shake, he silently berated himself for his thoughts.

They were absurd! Unthinkable! They would all probably be dead by the end of this anyways. Plus, he was almost positive that he was indeed in love with Valerie; his queen, his love, the other half of the Star-Crossed Lovers.

Consumed in his thoughts, he didn't notice when Virgil came to a stop under the cover of the beach where Valerie and Logan were sitting. Shifting the pile of vines from his shoulders, he let out a tired groan as he stretched his aching muscles.

"I'm tired," he moaned as he leaned against Valerie's shoulder, desperately trying to pry his mind off of Virgil, who was helping Logan sort through all the collected vines. "How's the plan going?"

"We've decided that starting a fight between the two closest allies would be best to convince them that we're falling apart. So, you and I will be fighting," Valerie explained. "We'll need to make it convincing, though.

"I'm pretty sure Princey here is a good actor."

"Acting aside," Logan interrupted. ", the vines look good; however, I have planned this so the events fall to tonight. Therefore, you two will need to begin acting indifferent towards each other now, just in case there are others watching us, so your blowup seems realistic. In addition, you two will be arguing by the beach, so once it's near midnight, you must leave. Quickly. The lightning tree is struck right after the waves that occurred similarly this morning. Be ready to get out of there if it doesn't work."

"Doesn't work?"

"There's the slightest of chances that this might not work the way that we planned. If that's the case, try to make your way toward the lightning tree and we'll meet you there."

"I thought you said this was safe," said Roman, his voice lowering to just above a growl.

"Falsehood. I made no such claims. I simply stated that it would be a good way to cut down on the competition."

"Think logically, Princey. There's always the chance that something could go wrong. You just need to be brave enough to accept that."

Roman was about to protest but a sharp kick to his shin by Valerie shut him up.

"Roman! Don't go making decisions for me. I'm just as strong as you are. You have no right to just make up your mind for both of us." Roman felt a hot wave of shame wash over him at Valerie's anger. It was true; he'd been making most of their decisions. "I'm willing to go through with this, but I need you to stay with me."

"I would go anywhere for you."

"Ugh. Are you done?" groaned Virgil, rubbing his eyes in exasperation. "Are we doing this or what?" Logan nodded beside him, looking confused at the mess of emotions before him.

Looking to Valerie for final confirmation, the two nodded, ready to face whatever came to them together.

* * *

Letting out a nervous breath, Roman steadied his steely gaze onto Valerie and raised his voice. "I'm getting sick and tired of working with those...idiots. We should just leave them behind. Or better yet, why don't we just kill them!" The two had been yelling at each other for a good 10 minutes already, but the careers were showing no signs of arriving anytime soon.

"We're not killing them! That won't make anything better."

"How could it not! Less competition, less worry that they'll get us when we're weak! We're strong together. We don't need them."

"Roman, listen to yourself! You sound like a murderer."

"Oh, come on! It's easy, remember. All we need is one little arrow and-"

"Shut up! Shut up! You sound crazy!" Roman opened his mouth to give his scripted response, but before he could, a shrill scream of pain flooded the clearing, forcing Roman to drop his psychotic look and glance nervously in the direction of the noise. Was someone there?

"Roman," someone screamed from the underbrush. Virgil!

The lovers were under strict instruction to scatter if Virgil warned them and head to the lightning tree to regroup. Ducking his head, he blinked in pain as a knife lodged itself deep into his shoulder, just barely nicking his neck while another skimmed past his thigh, narrowly avoiding his artery.

Bolting to the rights, he grabbed Valerie's hand and made a mad dash towards the lightning tree, ducking and weaving to avoid the onslaught of throwing knives threatening to pierce their bodies. Stumbling slightly, Roman and Valerie nearly bowled Virgil over in their haste.

"Virgi-"

"There's no time. We've been found out," he grunted.

"So let's go to the lightning tree!"

"Change of plans. Valerie move. Get to the tree. Logan is there and he'll help you.

"What about Roman!"

"He won't be able to move fast enough with his injuries."

"I'll be fine," Roman grunted, struggling to stand but collapsing before he could move. "I'm not dying here."

"No one's dying. Valerie, get moving. I'll take care of Roman."Valerie looked torn between saving herself and leaving her love to die at the hands of the careers, who were crashing closer every second. "Move!"

Leaning forward, she pressed one last kiss to Roman's lips. It was cold and chaste and not much of a relief for Roman, but she pulled away quickly and disappeared quietly. Biting his lip, he pressed down at the agony in his chest as the feeling that he would never see her again welled up within him. Lost in his thoughts, Roman never noticed when Virgil pulled out a knife from his belt and grabbed at his wrist.

"This is gonna hurt like a bitch," he huffed. A searing ain suddenly burned at his wrist as Virgil plunged the tip of his knife deep under his skin, screaming as the knife sliced away at the sleeve of his wetsuit and flicked out a small device. "Sorry." Grabbing an arrow from its sheath, Virgil wrapped the end of a vine around the shaft. When had he gotten that vine? "Now stay here and stay quiet," leaning forwards so he was whispering into his ear, "Aim that to the arena and let loose. Show that snake-faced bastard what we're made of. The rest is up to you, mister 'face of the rebellion'."

Virgil quickly pushed him under the cover of a bush and scampered off, shouting taunts and jeers towards the careers as they lumbered past, not seeing Roman hidden in the low light. Face of the rebellion? Why would Virgil call him that?

Once the noise had died down to the gentle hum of the jungle, Roman sat up, ignoring his lightheadedness and the pulsating pain that coursed through his body. What was he supposed to do? On one hand, he wanted to follow Virgil's instruction. Maybe it would lead to a quick and painless death to everyone; end their suffering. Or should he completely ignore Virgil's instruction and do what he thought was best.

His mind was blank for a second until the thought hit him. Snapping his head towards the beach, he strained his ears, trying to listen to the loud rushing of the violent waves, the signal that he needed to shoot. But there was no such noise.

Scrambling for his bow, his shaky, blood covered hands struggled to ready the vine-tied arrow. With the adrenaline already draining from his body and the immense loss of blood, it was hard to think, let alone act. Closing his eyes to shut out the many screaming thoughts in his head, Roman allowed his body to act on auto-pilot, feeling his unsteady hands knock the arrow and pull the string until he was shaking with effort.

Pointing his arrow to the sky, he let loose, watching as the arrow flew, up, up into the sky and crash in a glowing display of sparks high above him. He could feel the heat from the wires exploding at his side, but he couldn't care less as the world fell around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I made the games way shorter than I intended, but so did the books so that's ok! Also, if there are any continuity errors, please tell me ASAP!!! I'm nt good with remembering everything I wrote, so if you spot anything that I mentioned before or that is suddenly different, please tell me!
> 
> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated!


	10. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE!!! SOME GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF INJURIES AND SOME MINOR CHARACTER DEATH!!!

_He struggled fruitlessly in the surly grip of the two nurses, twisting and folding his body in a weak effort to pull out of their grasp. Panting as pain seared his body, he reached around and pulled out the needle from his uninjured wrist with enough force to rip a new hole into his skin._

_"Where is she!" he bellowed, snarling viciously at the nurses as they tried to calm him down. "Where is she! Tell me, you bastard, where is she! Let me see her. I need to know if she's ok!" he let out a shriek of pain as the grip on his side tightened, causing blinding pain to shoot over his burnt flesh. "Please take me to her!" he begged, his body slowing as a sharp prick of a needle in his arm pierced his skin, spreading ice through his veins and making his body feel heavy like lead._

_His vision was fading at an alarming rate and the feeling in his fingers was disappearing swiftly. Reaching his hand out one last time, he fell into the icy grip on unconsciousness._

* * *

Dark. That was all that Roman could see; surrounding him like a freezing chasm, swallowing him whole. Cold; the only thing he could feel. An icy heat that coursed through his veins at fervent speed and sent shivers down his spine. It was dark...

But suddenly, everything opened before his eyes. Light, warmth, and feeling returned to his body, pushing newfound energy past the ice in his blood and cutting through the fog in his brain. Roman winced at the bright white lights that met him as his eyes cracked open; fluorescent and artificial as they shone across his gaze.

Moving his stiff fingers slowly, Roman felt the soft linens of which he was laying on, feeling the warmth drift through his fingers as they brushed upon the feathery softness. He could feel the bandages under his baggy shirt, as well as the cold metal of the IV embedded into his bloodstream and making him shudder. Roman craned his neck to the side, catching a glimpse of the small room with a large glass window reflecting the straight grey-blue tiles of the too-square room. Feeling rather uneasy, he struggled to shift himself into a sitting position, but the stabbing throb of his shoulder and especially his right side left him gasping with pain, tears in his eyes.

The click of the door drew his attention elsewhere as a young woman wearing a grey uniform entered with a small tray of what he could only assume was food. The woman inhaled sharply as their eyes met and quickly closed the door, rushing off to find someone else. She soon returned with a rather large flock of doctors and heavily muscled men, who looked neither friendly nor like a doctor.

Tensing against his bed, he moved to push himself up, but the muscled duo were at his side in an instant, ready to restrain him if he so much as moved. Roman remained still as the nurses checked over his vitals and inspected the bandages that nearly wrapped around his whole body. Once they were satisfied that he was doing fine, they bustled out, papers in hand and making way for an oh-so-familiar face.

"P-Patton!" he gasped, wincing slightly as he jostled his wounds.

"Hey, buddy," Patton smiled, but the spark of life in his eyes had dimmed considerably. Roman reached out to grab his hand, fingers shaking as he stared at Patton's face. It was thin and pale, looking sickly under the harsh lights, and most striking was his left eye; wrapped tightly with crisp white bandages, smelling sour from infection.

"Y-Your eye."

Patton gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Oh, this? Don't worry about it, kiddo. I'm just glad that you're ok."

"Don't say that! What happened! On that day...what did they do to you, Pat?" Roman held in a sob as his voice broke.

"I told you, I'm a-"

"Don't bullshit me!" he cried, feeling tears spill down his cheeks when Patton shied away from his words. "Please tell me."

"They took me away," he began after a few beats. ", and they tortured me. Somehow, they managed to get information on the rebellion, and they tried to pry as much as they could from me." Roman gave him a horrified look as Patton ran a hand over the bandages across his forearms and reached up to unravel his eye.

Roman fought the urge to gag as the bitter stench of rotting flesh wafted over him. His once vibrant blue eye was now swollen and encrusted with yellow pus. The eye beneath was barely seeable, but Roman could tell it was raw and painful. "They poured acid into my eye. It was...excruciating, but before they could do my other eye, they broke me out and brought me here, just like they brought you here. Now we're safe, and that's all that matters, huh?" wrapping the white cloth crudely around his head once more, he gave Roman a pained smile and leaned in to give him a hug. "I'm glad you're safe, Roman," he murmured, his voice sounding watery in his ear.

"I'm glad you're alright, too," the two stayed together for the longest time, weeping in each other's arms and finding solace in each other's company.

"So, I guess you have a lot of questions," Patton sniffed, pulling away to dry his eye. "I'll answer as many as I can for now." In the short time they had together, Patton brought Roman up to speed as best as he could. Roman learned that after he fired that arrow, crafts from the one thought to be demolished District 13 carried out as many tributes as they could and brought them to the bunker hidden deep within 13's land. Roman and the other tributes had been there for a week recovering from the wounds inflicted upon them during the games and the escape.

"And the tributes? Who's here now?"

Patton glanced nervously towards the door as if he was debating whether or not he should just leave and avoid the question altogether. "Um, I'm not sure if it's my place to tell you that just yet."

"Fine. Just tell me where Valerie is. They did rescue her too, right?" the creeping note of restlessness and desperation in his voice was clearly off-putting to the designer, but before he could answer, a young man in the same grey uniform entered the room.

"I'm sorry, sir, but Mr Prince needs rest in order to heal quickly," politely shooing Patton away from the bed, the nurse added something into his IV bag, making Roman's eyelids heavy and his mind cloud.

"Don't worry about it, alright? She's fine. I promise," Patton gently ran a hand through Roman's hair; the calming motion alongside the strange drug he was given was slowly purring Roman back to sleep. But it was too soon! There was still so much he needed to know! Where was Valerie? Was she ok? Was she even in 13 at all?

A million different questions were flooding his mind, but the warm calls of sleep were far too tempting for Roan's weakened state, and he eventually gave in to the alluring voice of sleep.

* * *

 

The sharp prick in his wrist nearly startled Roman awake. A more natural yellow light emanating from a lamp beside his bed was the only thing lighting the room, and while the lack of the humming fluorescent lights was calming, the presence of a thin character beside him was most definitely not. Letting out a yelp of surprise, Roman pulled himself away from the shadowy figure as much as his broken and bruised body allowed him to.

"Oh, calm down, Princey. Aren't you glad to see me?"

"...Virgil?"

"Have you forgotten me already? How mean," the sarcastic whine in his voice was enough to get Roman's blood boiling, but as Virgil stepped into the light more, all feelings of anger washed away.

The younger boy looked sallow and thin, much like Patton did, but the violent shaking of his hands and the too dark shadows under his eyes told him that he was probably doing much worse than the tortured designer.

"You look awful," he rasped, hoping to bring back a spark of life to the dead-eyed boy.

"You don't look too hot yourself," Virgil muttered as he snatched the needle from its spot on the counter and poured a fair bit of rubbing alcohol on it. Once it was clean enough for Virgil's approval, he stuck the IV into his own wrist, sighing as the medicine began dripping into his bloodstream.

"...That's not sanitary at all."

"Can it, Princey. They cut me off days ago and I'm desperate for a distraction." And with that, the room was plunged into silence, with Roman staring dumbfoundedly at the much calmer teen.

"How did you get in here."

"Security here kinda sucks, if you hadn't already noticed,"

"But why would you be here of all places."

"I already told you. They cut me off and I needed a distraction. Plus," twirling a scalpel between his fingers, the teen sent Roman a heavy-lidded smirk. ", can't I just visit a dear friend?"

Roman couldn't stop the blush that covered his face as Virgil let out a delirious giggle. Clearly whatever drug he was on was affecting his thinking.

"Y-You should probably leave," he stuttered.

"You're kicking me out already? You're so cold," he whined, sounding so much like Roman that it was rather unsettling. Before he could protest, Virgil let out a tired sigh. "Can't I stay for a little bit longer? I just...I want to be in the presence of a person. Just for a little while," Virgil's voice sounded so weak and exhausted that Roman didn't have the heart to force him out, so he instead turned the lamp off an scooted over along his bed.

"You can stay until they find you," he said quietly, patting the empty side of the cramped bed. "You can sit here if you want."

After a few beats of awkward silence, Roman heard Virgil pad over to the bed and lay down. "Thanks."

* * *

 

As it turned out, Virgil was caught not 2 hours after he let himself onto Roman's room. He was escorted out by two surly looking guards and had his IV- which was giving him the pain medication he needed to not feel like throwing up every minute- replaced and reinserted into his arm.

It took Roman another week and a half to finally be weaned off his morphling supply. While 13's medicine was no miracle cure like in the Capitol, it was infinitely better than the meagre array back in 12, when all the medicine had to be gathered from roots and plants that offered little help when attending to common injuries back in the mines. During his nauseatingly long stay in the medical ward, Patton continued his daily visits along with his mother and brothers.

His mother was hysterical, crying and sobbing onto his shoulder and clinging to his sone for dear life.

"I was so worried," she gasped, fisting her hands into the back of his shirt while his brother held himself back.

"Where's Patrick?" he asked quietly, alarm and dread filling his veins as his mother began bawling harder. "Shea, where's Patrick?" he demanded.

Shea sighed hard, rubbing a hand across his unshaven face. "The minute you shot that arrow, everything just sort of...stopped. The screens went black and there were peacekeepers everywhere, ushering us back to our homes. They stayed there for so long, Ro, but by early morning, they left. We were still under orders to stay put, but Patrick figured out that the peacekeepers wouldn't leave unless something bad would happen; unless their lives were in danger. So we ran out and gathered everyone up as fast as we could; told them to get to the forest and not to bother with any of their other possessions.

"In less than half an hour, there were hovercrafts over 12, dropping bombs on us," his voice cracked in the middle of his sentence, forcing him to pause as their mother's rattling gasps filled the air. "We couldn't even get 1000 people out before the explosions started," Shea's voice gave in to a sharp intake, using a hand to cover his eyes as he chocked on his words.

Roman's mind was blank as if there was nothing there to begin with. Bombings in 12? Was that his fault, too?

"W-Who made it out?"

"Patrick didn't" his mother wailed, her voice raspy and hoarse.

"Most of them were children." Removing his hand from his face, Shea carefully placed a calloused hand on his brother's uninjured shoulder. "But the Torres' made it out if that's what you're wondering."

"And Colton?" Roman took his solemn silence for an answer and didn't press further, comforting his mother just as much as he was trying to comfort himself.

* * *

As the week wore on, the broken family stayed together as much as they could, skipping meals to just be together and talk, as if it were their last moments together. Patton visited sporadically when his brother and mother weren't there, only visiting when the two could be alone together. Despite Roman's wishes and near-constant nagging, Patton remained tight-lipped on the whereabouts of Valerie, and the growing ball of icy cold nerves in the pit of Roman's stomach was only growing with every avoidance Patton made.

"Can't you tell me anything?"

"I've already told you everything I could. Those above me have given me clear instructions that I'm not allowed to tell you anything!"

"Not like you've never broken rules before..." Roman sulked, pouting indignantly and picking at his cuticles.

"I'm sorry, Roman, but I can't tell you any more!" Patton sighed, sounding rather frustrated at Roman's never-ending questions.

"But who's telling you no keep quiet!"

"The president." Patton's words sent a nervous shiver down his spine. the president? As in President Dolan? Just imagining the snake-eyed man hissing lies into the innocent ears of other was enough to make Roman feel ill. "Not that President. I promise," Patton murmured, sensing Roman's apprehension. "The President of 13, Thomas Coin."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, you might remember from past chapters that I made Thomas one of Roman's friends, not the president. But I've switched some things around so it makes sense. Plus, president is better than best friend.
> 
> Second, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR OVER 500 HITS! For my first fic, It's not bad, if I do say so myself!
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated, as always!


	11. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been like 2 weeks or something, but I finally have an update! I've been losing steam for a while, but I hope you enjoy!

The constant drip of water from a leaky faucet. The ominous creaks and moans of the metal structure above his head. The ever-present buzzing of lights surrounding his mind and clouding his senses. It was too much. Far too much for Roman to fully grasp. It was as if everything was gone yet there at the exact same time.

Over the days he spent recuperating with his family and Patton, he had time to mull over the entire sequence of events that placed him in 13. Fragments of memories from the games slowly seeped itself back into his mind, sending him reeling as flashes of overbright white light and searing pains wracked his body, leaving him twitchy and restless. The gravity of everything around him slamming against him all at once, making him break out into cold sweats and terrifying screaming matches in his head.

He longed to leave, to be out of the confines of a metal basement and be free and away from the feeling world and just drift away...

The sound of the door opening and the high pitched squeak of a rattly wheel forced Roman to lift his head and shift his gaze to Patton, who was pushing a wheelchair for Roman.

"Come on, Kiddo. There's someone who wants to see you!" Though his words were light and cautious, not wanting to startle the paranoid teen, there was a weight to his words that made Roman tense and fidgety. Despite Patton's constant soothing words that President Coin, who Roman could only assume he would be meeting today, he still felt uneasy and overly anxious about the meeting. There were so many things he was itching to ask; of their situation, the whole sequence of their rescue and, most importantly, where Valerie was. The growing dread was beginning to eat away at his psyche, threatening to drive him insane.

How he longed to do something with his hands.

"Thanks, Pat," Roman croaked, heaving himself onto the chair with a painful thud. At that moment, Roman wished for nothing more than another bag of morphling.

With careful, deliberate movements, Patton began wheeling him down hall after hall, each one appearing to be unsettlingly similar. "Y'know, Ro? I heard that they're bringing in a special doctor to see you!" he continued when Roman nodded slowly. "He's going to help you talk about some of the things that happened. Make it a bit easier in your mind. That sounds great, right?" Roman felt a wave of frustration bubble up within him, threatening to overflow and poison his words. He was grateful that Patton was being kind and gentle, but he was not a child! He was doing fine, or so he convinced himself.

Pushing his thoughts back to a low simmer, he set his face to a disgruntled grimace, cringing as the lights began to brighten before dimming suddenly as the sliding doors in front of them swung open for their access. Rubbing his eyes from the sudden rush of overstimulation, Roman felt the creaky wheels slow to a halt before a large oval table.

"Ah. Roman. It's been a while." The words made Roman freeze, his head whipping upwards despite the rush of vertigo and darkness in his vision.

"Logan! Oh my God, you're alright!"

"Of course I am. Though, not without a few scratches." The beam of happiness and light that shone onto Roman's dark words at the sight of his ally was quickly darkened as Logan wheeled himself towards Roman. "I'm glad to see you're doing well. You did take the brunt of the damage, after all."

"L-Logan! W-What happened to your-"

"Legs?" the older man ran a bandaged hand over his right thigh down to his knees, or where there should have been knees, for his leg was now a heavily wrapped stump ending just above his knee. His other leg didn't look much better. It too was wrapped in heavy white gauze, but the odd, stiff angle from which it stuck out was alarming in and of itself. "There was a slight mishap in the arena that I couldn't avoid. The doctors here, though superb in their craft, couldn't save my right, and for now, I have little feeling in my left," Logan murmured, confirming Roman's fears. He couldn't help but gape at Logan, who once stood so tall and who may never stand once again. "Either way, it was an unavoidable expense. In all, a good trade for our lives."

"Don't give me that crap!" Roman yelled, nearly jumping out of his own chair to grasp and Logan's bony shoulders. "This should have never happened. If we hadn't done anything risky-"

"Kiddo, if we didn't take risks we wouldn't be safe in 13 in the first place. No one could have stopped the debris from falli-"

"It was the debris!" Roman gasped horrified. If he hadn't shot that arrow at the sky, where would they be now? Hell, they might've stayed in the arena, but Logan would have both his eyes, and Virgil wouldn't be sneaking morphling. And Valerie! Oh, God, Valerie! Where would she be? It was all his fault! He should've never shot that stupid, stupid arrow! He should've done nothing! Nothing! If anything, he should've died that night-

"Roman!" Logan's strict tine snapped Roman back to reality. "It was a sacrifice that I was willing to make. If I truly doubted the possibility of us making it out of there, I would have never approved the plan in the first place!"

Before Roman could open his mouth to protest, Patton stepped forward. "Both of you, stop arguing! Sure, bad decisions were made, but in the end, we're all alive! Breathing! Living! And we're all together! That's all that matters," taking both Roman and Logan's hands, "Please don't that you did anything wrong. I don't want to lose either one of you." his voice trailed off into a quiet sniffle, Roman could feel the warmth of tears leaking over his cheeks before he could even stop them.

For a few moments, the room was quiet; Roman whispered quiet apologies while Logan remained stoically silent, gaze withdrawn and subdued.

"Wow, It's actually quiet for once. Wasn't expecting that." A low, hoarse murmur voiced from the back of the secluded room, sounding utterly familiar yet ghostly at the same time. The sudden presence of another person startling Roman away from Patton's grasp and re-lighted the focus in Logan's eyes.

"Ah, Virgil. So kind of you to join us."

"The pleasure's all mine, teach," he gave a mock salute to the guards as they shuffled off behind the blackened glass, leaving the shell that was Virgil alone in the dim hall. "I'm glad to see you're doing better."

"And you as well," Logan replied, though Roman could hardly classify Virgil's unsightly state as 'doing better'. While all three of them had lost a good amount of weight since the last time they'd seen each other, Virgil looked like a skeleton, as if he was nothing more than a pile of bones and waxy pale skin. He looked emaciated and scrawny under the hospital gown he wore, no trace of lean muscle or a healthy glow to his skin to be seen. The dark shadows beneath his tired eyes were deep and sunken and paired with the crazed red hue of his sclera's he looked deranged and hysterical like one of the many drunks that wandered district 12. A long cord of braided blue string hung limply from bony fingers, several knots already tied tightly into it. Suddenly, Roman felt the overwhelming urge to do something. To fiddle. The fidget. To simply take his mind away from where he was and go anywhere else.

The purple-eyed teen walked forward in a slow, unsteady movement into the light, plopping onto a chair beside Patton before giving them a steely glare, challenging them to say anything about his condition. "How's your eye, Pat?"

"Oh! It's a lot better now!" Patton chirped, hoping to alleviate the tense air. "In the end, they had to remove it, but it's healing better now." Patton brushed a few curly locks away to reveal the bandages over his visibly less swollen eye. "You...still aren't hungry, are you?" Though Patton's tone was light, his good eye was glistening with concern.

"Nah, not yet. They said they're going to get me a feeding tube," Virgil hummed, sounding not at all concerned by the fact that he was starving himself. "But we're not here to talk about me. I thought Coin was going to be here?"

Coin. Of course. Back to the matters at hand. The light chatter between Virgil and Patton slowed as the doors swung open for the 3rd time that hour, revealing a tall, sandy-haired man dressed in a plain grey uniform, but the crinkle in his eyes and the easy smile on his lips eased the growing tension in Roman's shoulders.

"Welcome, my esteemed tributes and allies," he waved off the few people following him and made his way to their ever-shrinking table. "I do hope you're enjoying your stay here," the president gave them a sympathetic smile. "Please know that if you are trouble with anything, anything! Feel free to voice your concerns. By the time this is all over, everyone in Panam will have the right to voice their thoughts, even those in the districts."

Coin's words were simple to decipher and seemed genuine enough at least to have both Patton and Logan trust the man, but the swirling thoughts in his head seemed to roar louder in his mind with the man's presence. A million questions bubbled in his mouth, all begging to be asked, but only one came out. "Where's Valerie," he blurted, interrupting whatever Coin was saying.

"Valerie Torres, huh?" Coin's voice was soft and painfully sympathetic.

"Where is she," he repeated, slower this time.

"Mr Prince, I can't fathom all the horrors that you had to endure while living under the Capitol's thumb, and while you deserve to know everything, it would be in your best interest to wait a little longer for your mind to heal bef-"

"I'll ask you one more time," Roman growled, ", Where. Is. Valerie."

Coin let out a defeated sigh, fixing Roman with a pained look. "I'm so, so sorry, Mr Prince, but I'm afraid that we couldn't find her in the rush of the evacuation." The words hit Roman like a train. That means she wasn't here; she wasn't safe in some other corridor in the maze that was 13. She was still in- "The Capitol has her currently, but we are working on a way to get her out, I promise you."

"...You mean she isn't here," his words were more a statement rather than a question, and the grim nod from the president was enough to light a rage within Roman. "Why!" he screamed. "Why did you save me and not her!"

"It's not their fault, Princey," Virgil cut in, effectively drawing attention to him rather than the clearly guilt-ridden president. "When I cut out your tracker, she became suspicious of me. She ran away from the lightning tree and disappeared. I tried to go after her, but the arena just went out and everything went dark. I stopped to cut out my own and save my own skin. If anything, it's my fault she's not here," Virgil slumped further into his chair, looking almost out of breath.

"You see, Roman when you shot that arrow, the whole arena short-circuited. Everything stopped working, the sky, cameras, everything. Even the trackers. But they came back online quicker than anything else, and the signal coming from her wrist led the gamemakers and peacekeepers right to her. When Valerie ran, she ran right back into the hands of the Capitol."

"So you're saying it's her fault for getting captured? It's her fault that she's probably being brutally tortured?" Roman stood abruptly, ignoring the wave of numbing dizziness that washed over him as he stalked over to loom menacingly over the president.

"It's no one's fault! No one could've guessed what would happen! But you should trust that people here are doing as much as they can to get her back! Please, Roman," Patton pleaded. "Calm down."

"Calm down? CALM DOWN? Patton, how could you say that! Valerie is in the hands of absolute monsters because of this bastard's orders! If they'd only searched longer, or looked harder, they would've found her!"

"Roman, they would have never-"

"Cut the bullshit, Logan! Think about it! The person I love is being tortured in the hands of fucks they call gamemakers! The same people that poured acid into Patton's eyes!" even the blatant flinch of Patton's shoulders wasn't enough to calm the fire within Roman. "Do you think you could sit still knowing the person you love is hurt!" he curled his lips into a snarl as he continued, but a sharp prick to his shoulder caught his attention. Behind him, several muscular people, similar to the guards he woke up to a week prior, were making their way towards him, cornering him as if he were an animal.

One by one, the carefully subdued the delirious man, the sedative slowly working through his body and eventually making his muscles go limp.

"I'm so sorry for his behaviour, President Coin," Logan apologized, though Coin lifted a hand as a signal for him to stop.

"It's understandable as to why he's upset. He's gone through so much at such a young age," he murmured, watching the guards gently wheel him back to the medical ward. "He'll probably stay there for another psyche evaluation first before joining you, Virgil." the young man nodded before resuming his rhythmic knotting, eyes focused solely onto the braid in his hands.

Knotting, Knotting, over and over again in a seamless pattern, until it was all that Roman could see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I REALLY need to re-watch the movies to make sure I'm not missing details...
> 
> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated!


	12. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO'S BACK BITCH
> 
> So, I've been gone for a while, writer's block is a bitch, but I managed to finally churn out this chapter, so I hope you enjoy!

White. That was all she could see. It was all she could feel in this sterile world, seemingly devoid of feeling.

Pain. White hot and searing through her skin, rattling her bones to their very core. It hurt. Everything she did hurt, fire racing up and down her spine as she clenched her jaw in an attempt to muffle the screams and howls emitted from her hoarse throat.

And yet, despite the pure torture she was being put through, Valerie never once broke. She kept her cool despite the burning acid thrown across her body and refused to let out even the slightest hint of the meagre information she had learned about the rebellion, even when they threatened to pull out her fingernails one by one. It was almost as if she was on the outside looking in, a mere bystander who simply watched as her life was ripped to pieces.

* * *

 

The harsh buzzing of the door snapped Valerie out of her waning thoughts, sharpening the focus in her dull mocha eyes as she braced her bruised and bloodied fingers on the cool metal bars at her sides.

"Ah! Ms Valerie! Good morning! I trust you slept well," came the sadistic voice of a plump old man, his greying hair slicked back against his head while a bone-chillingly wide smile adorning his too tight features. Biting back a scathing response, Valerie simply continued to stare blankly at the ceiling above her. She was half-tempted to lean over and spit in his smug face.

"Come now, dear. It's impolite to ignore someone when they're talking to you." Again, she ignored his words, biting her tongue as a blinding shock of searing pain wracked her thin frame, jolting her so violently that she nearly sat upright as she choked back a sob.

She can feel the blood running from her nose before she could taste it.

"Good morning, Doctor," she finally croaked, her voice no higher than a cracked whisper as she stubbornly continued to ignore the man in front of her. The man's plastic features twisted into a scowl, his face flushing an ugly purplish red as he ground his teeth together audibly. But instead of shocking her once again as he normally would, he held back; seemingly restrained by an invisible wire.

"Well, your attitude really could use more work," he seethed, shoving fat, sausage-like fingers in her face in rage. ", but I'm afraid that I must. Hold. Back," the sharp enunciation of his words and the spittle flying from his lips made Valerie cringe away in disgust. Not that she could move much in the first place.

_God, she was so tired..._

"It seems that someone has requested an audience with you," he grumbled flipping through his sheets of notes to find whatever he was looking for. But in an instant, his look of pure contempt morphed into sadistic pleasure, a wicked smile once again growing on his face. "I'm sure you will enjoy the company, however!" The sudden brightness of his tone and vicious joy in his eyes was enough to make Valerie's skin crawl with tension and her iron grip to tighten impossibly.

With a joyful skip in his step, the fat doctor sauntered out of the room, his whole body practically thrumming with satisfaction as he locked the door securely behind him, leaving Valerie to her thoughts.

What in the hell was that display? She knew that the bastard was off-kilter, but the sudden change in his cruel personality was...disturbing, to say the least. She only knew him as a being of pure madness, taking pleasure in the pained shrieks of others and relishing the pleading begs for the torture to end. He was a monster, something that couldn't be considered human.

Lifting a shaky hand to her nose, Valerie wiped off the trail of blood, staining her waxy skin a brownish-red, the only colour in her pure white world. The room remained silent and empty for who knows how long. It was becoming hard for Valerie to maintain her sense of the world. Those shocks were really doing something to her brain.

Again, the irritating buzzing of the door forcefully ejected Valerie from her mind as she turned her head to glare at whoever had entered. She was expecting to see the same group of 'nurses' as she did every day, huge lumbering people, each with a cruel, unfeeling grin on their faces as they delightfully picked at Valerie's crumbling psyche.

She was not, however, expecting the painfully shard that wedged in her chest at the two oh so familiar faces.

Behind the two was a broad-shouldered woman pushing the skinny avoxes forward and keeping them on their feet. Her gorilla-like features twisted into a scowl of disdain as she pushed the people through and locked the door behind them.

They were so familiar! Valerie was sure that she'd at least seen them somewhere, but her scattered brain couldn't find their faces in her memory. And still, the acrylic orange hat and the colourfully dyed hair was sparking something in her and it made her want to cry.

Silently, the duo began stripping her of her gown, the taller wiping the blood off of her face while the shorter wheeled in a cart with more styling products than Valerie could count.

"I-I know y-you," she finally gasped, startling the one with the orange hat and forcing them to flinch away. "Y-You were stylists in t-the games, right?"

A look of utter sorrow passed over the shorter's features, moving to sit on the bed beside her and gently caress her cheek. Valerie could feel the tears spilling onto her cheeks as the stylist began to weep, nodding their head plaintively.

Valerie felt paralyzed, her tongue dry and her eyes watery with unshed tears. But the silence continued, the two avoxes moving in the stillness around her. Together, they painted the hollows of her cheeks with colour, bringing life back to her sunken features and depth to her skeletal face. Softening the harsh contours of her jutting cheekbones and covering the dark shadows of her sleepless eyes.

Once they were done, Valerie looked like a completely different person; with a round, robust face without a hint of the once waxy pallor of her skin. Had it not been for her glassy, red-rimmed eyes, she could have looked just like the girl from 12 who died on the last night of the games, alive with adrenaline pumping through her veins.

Oh, how she missed that girl.

She watched as the stylist with the orange hat hesitantly padded up behind her, a makeup pen in their hand scribbling a few messy words onto Valerie's palm.

'Joan Talyn' it read.

"Joan," they mouthed, pointing to themselves, then to the other, who Valerie could only assume was Talyn.

Joan and Talyn...where had she heard those names before?

"...You were Virgil's stylists, weren't you?" she whispered, a lump forming in her throat as she choked on her words. Talyn nodded from beside Joan, opening their mouth a few times in a butchered attempt to speak, but no noise came forth. Instead, the room was left in solemn silence.

A part of her wanted to beg for what they knew, to demand for any knowledge that they held on the wellbeing of everyone she lost that night in the arena. Was Roman ok? When she ran from Virgil, what had become of him? Where they all just...dead? But the sensible side of her mind chided her thoughts, reminding herself that both Joan and Talyn had probably been through major trauma and bringing up any mention of their probably deceased allies wasn't the best decision. Not that Valerie made any good decisions, that is.

Moving silently, Joan carefully unzipped the black bag from its spot on the counter, Talyn gripping her hand in a form of silent comfort.

_"We're here for you, no matter what happens."_

The sight of the pale white fabric blended almost hideously with the plain white walls that tormented her damaged mind. The silky smooth material flowed like water to the ground, rippling and adorned with hundreds of shimmering gemstone. Something that looked akin to chicken wire mesh, in Valerie's mind, was clipped to the dresses side; a pin of white roses and polished silver. Valerie wasn't sure if she should have burst out laughing or bawl like a child.

Whoever wanted to see her clearly missed the announcement that the wedding was cancelled.

* * *

 

The tension in the air was nearly tangible in the air as the frigid silence stretched across the table. Valerie, sitting stiffly at her end of the long mahogany counter, glared with as much strength as she could muster at the far too relaxed form of the president. The man's posture was calm and seemingly unthreatening, sipping from a large glass of dark red wine, the same shade as blood.

The man let out a contented sigh as he set his glass down, closing his narrowed eyes and folding his hands neatly in front of him.

"So, Ms Torres," his gleaming eyes flew open as his venomous gaze locked onto Valerie. "How have you been enjoying your stay here? I've heard you had quite the time with your doctor. Oh! Did you enjoy that little meet-up I arranged with you? I'm sure you spoke much with those...allies of yours," the bright tone of his voice accompanied by his nonchalant words were easily getting under Valerie's skin.

He could go to hell, for all she cared! The snake bastard was toying with her, she could feel it. But instead of a biting remark, she let out a calming breath, smoothing the creases of her dress to calm herself.

"I can't say that I have been enjoying everything, sir," she said coldly. "And, I must sincerely thank you for letting me see Joan and Talyn again! And for this beautiful dress," her tone matched his beat for beat, her words sarcastic and her lilt crass.

"Ah, I'm glad you liked it. You would have made a truly graceful bride," Dolos sneered, smothering a cackle of glee with another sip of wine. "Eat, Ms Torres. I'm sure that we will be here a while," he gestured to the many plates laid out on the velvet tablecloth, the mouthwatering scent wafting to Valerie's nose and making it difficult to concentrate.

With great amounts of self-control, Valerie remained still, tugging a few strands of thinning hair out of the elaborate bun on her head. "Why exactly did you bring me here, President Dolos. I'm sure that having an audience with you is something that doesn't happen quite often." The glow of laughter and sadistic glee immediately fled the man's green eyes, his face twisting into a vicious smirk that sent cold dread running down Valerie's spine.

"Well then, if you would rather skip the niceties," Valerie shivered in her spot, longing to just get up and run as far away from the two-faced man as her weak legs could carry her. It was as if the mere sound of his voice triggered the temperature to drop, goosebumps lining her bare arms as she fought to squirm under his scrutinizing gaze.

Leaning forward, "Tell me all that you know."

"I will tell you what I tell the doctor every morning," she said coldly. "; I do not know anything. I was dragged into a supposed rebel plot by accident. Neither I nor Roman had any idea that what happened would happen." Valerie was half expecting the president to jump out of his chair and strangle her himself, hissing evilly about her spouting lies and watching the light drain from her eyes, but the man remained glued to his chair. His analytical gaze was trained on Valerie as if he could see through her.

"Well, seeing as you don't know anything on the whereabouts of your friends," his voice filled with scorn as he spat the word 'friends' with vile indifference, "would you like me to enlighten you?" Another wide grin spread across the president's face, making Valerie stiffen and her stomach churn. "You see, though the rebels are loyal dogs, they can still crack when put under enough pressure," a sickening chuckle reverberated through the room.

"What did you do to them," Valerie demanded. "To Joan and Talyn."

"Why ask a question you already know the answer to, Ms Torres," he purred, smirking. Of course, Valerie knew what had happened. Torture in it's most violent form, seeking answers through pain and merciless agony. And once the last bits of information were stripped from their weakened mind, their tongues were cut, eyes forcefully gouged out or burned with the strongest acid.

Valerie knew it all, but she still had to ask.

"They did put up a good fight, however. All three of them."

"Three?"

"Ah, forgive me. I've left out a rather important piece of this story. Your stylist was here for a time too and I must say, watching him fall apart was a pleasure."

"What the hell did you do!"

"Again, you seem to have a poor choice in questions," Dolos sighed, feigning disappointment as he took a bite out of a jam-covered roll. "I just talked to him, asked him a few questions, though, quite a bit of prompting was needed. In the end, he gave me all the information I needed, but your little rebellion friends managed to snatch him away before we could finish our talk."

"Bullshit!" Valerie roared, standing quickly but before she could move, she felt the cold barrel of a gun pressed to the back of her head. The silent guards stationed at the doors of the room had completely slipped her mind.

"Sit, Ms Torres," the president demanded. "We still have much to speak on. Don't you want to know about those defiant little radicals that saved both your stylist and your fiance?"

_Roman_ , she thought.  _He knew what had happened to Roman, and by default, everyone else she had lost in the arena_. "What happened to him."

"Patience," he chided, gesturing to the plates before them. "Eat something, then we'll talk. I'll even answer all the questions on your mind."

Valerie begrudgingly nibbled on a slice of still-warm bread, smothering the whimper of nostalgia that threatened to escape her mouth. It was warm and sweet and it tasted so much like home.  _Oh, God, what had happened to her family? Her district? Everyone she had ever known?_

"What happened to Roman," she asked again, hating the wavering hesitancy in her voice.

"Ah, the lover boy. I already told you; he was whisked away in a rebel plot, leaving you behind to die."

"Whisked away by who! You clearly know who's behind everything, so tell me who!"

"District 13."

"What?"

"Oh, come now. I'm sure you learned about the district in ashes during your history lessons?" And of course, Valerie knew. Who didn't know of the district who sought revolution from the Capitol's grasp, only to be bombed to extinction live on the holo's in the square? "As it turns out, the cockroaches managed to survive and are trying a similar little uprising as they did 50 years ago."

"I have no connection to 13 and neither did Roman."

"Now that's where you're wrong. The two avoxes, those two allies you had, and your stylist were all accomplices with 13."

Valerie remained silent, thinking back on the past. It made sense that Virgil and Logan were involved with everything. Patton arranged for Logan and Virgil to be their allies, Virgil saved Roman on the first day despite not being established as friendly at first, same with Logan and Dhalia.

President Dolos sighed as the silence between them stretched. "13 always was good for nothing. Well, except for one thing." He was goading her on, baiting her with unanswered questions that the curiosity within Valerie needed to know the answer to.

"And what does that mean?"

"It was a good trial run for the bombings. We would have never been able to fully wipe out district 12 had we not gained experience from 13."

Valerie's eyes widened while Dolos smirked in amusement. "...You bombed 12?"

"It was a difficult decision, believe me."

"You killed my family! My friends! Every innocent person in that district that didn't deserve to die!"

"Everyone knows you must kill the source to kill them all, Ms Torres."

Valerie couldn't think. She couldn't breathe. This was worse than that fucked up doctor and the fresh scars lining her body. Worse than the pain, both physical and psychological, that she had ever experienced in the arena. It was as if someone was strangling her, sucking the air from her lungs along with her will to go on. She was  _so tired..._

"Do you have any more questions, Ms Torres?" President Dolos' voice was mockingly sweet, a deceptively sweet tone that almost sounded real in the frail mindscape of Valerie's tortured psyche.

"Why are you telling me this?" she whispered.

"Because, Ms Torres, you are of no worth to me," the harsh scraping of his chair accompanied by the sharp click of his heeled boots as he walked towards her made Valerie flinch. "You have clearly stated time and time again that you have little knowledge fo anything. And I believe you. There is no lie in your eyes as you speak to me, and frankly, it's rather refreshing!" Looking down at Valerie from Dolos' position behind her, a gloved hand roughly grabbed her chin and yanked her gaze upwards so their eyes met. "I'm almost regretting the order to kill you now."

He released her chin with a dark chuckle, snapping his fingers for the guards to come forward. Valerie made no move to struggle as strong hands seized her shoulders, practically lifting her from her seat and dragging her to the door.

"It truly was a pleasure knowing you, Ms Torres! I genuinely thank you for being so very entertaining," he gave her a mock bow and a pleased smile, but Valerie couldn't see it through her gaze, blurry with tears, both for herself and for all the innocent who dies because of her.

"Goodbye, Ms Torres."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, that was not great. I tried.
> 
> Comments and Kudos are appreciated!


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